The Handler (Noir et Bleu Motorcycle Club #2) (9 page)

“How’s he working out?”

She smiled provocatively. “So far, so good. He’s interesting.”

I rested my head back and glanced at her. “Thanks for letting me meet your mom.”

She snorted. “Yeah, that was a real treat.”

“Seriously. I was impressed by how you handled her.”

She seemed pleased by the compliment, but also a little embarrassed. “Yeah, well, I’ve had years of practice.”

“You’re good at it for someone who’s only sixteen.”

She laughed and sat up to lean close before she whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”

I nodded and chuckled ironically since keeping secrets was becoming a way of life for me.

“I’m not sixteen. I’m going to be eighteen in a couple weeks.”

Two reactions came to my mind—
I knew it
and
shit
. The fact that she was only a year younger than me was going to make the need to keep the relationship strictly professional even more important. Unfortunately, it was also going to make it more difficult. I slid my feet off the coffee table. “Why does everybody think you’re sixteen?”

“My dad lied when I first started auditioning for commercials and shows. He thought it would make me seem advanced for my age.”

“Does Hal know?”

“Yeah. My passport shows my real age.” She must have sensed the change in my mood because to end the conversation she said, “Stop talking. I want to watch the movie.”

“I should go.”

Disappointment spread over her face. “Please wait until I fall asleep.”

It was a tough decision. I was getting paid to keep her company and make sure the loneliness didn’t get to her, but it wasn’t healthy to spend every minute together or lead her on. If I stayed, it would set the wrong tone for a working relationship. If I left, she would think it was because she was honest with me about her real age. I didn’t want her to regret telling me the truth, so I decided to stay for a while. I threw a pillow at her. She smiled and stacked it under her head on top of the other one.

She fell asleep before the movie was over, so I carried her to the bed and tucked her in. She looked really vulnerable, and I started to understand why it sucked to constantly be alone in a hotel room. Not that bikers were my ideal choice for roommates, but at least there was always someone around to talk to, and there was never a dull moment with those idiots. It seemed like my job was more about making sure she didn’t feel abandoned and isolated. At least, that was what I told myself as I crashed on the couch.

Chapter Eight

Lincoln woke up when her phone rang in the morning. It was Hal reminding her that we needed to be at the airport at three o’clock for the flight at five. Based on the smile on her face when she said “good morning” to me, she was excited that I hadn’t left the night before. I immediately regretted the decision. It had made her happy, but I felt like it was toying with her emotions. I also felt like a shitty boyfriend. And like the most unprofessional employee Tim had likely ever hired. I ordered breakfast while Lincoln made arrangements to have her mom taken care of. The room service arrived while she was on the phone, so I started eating without her, still beating myself up for having poor judgement.

Ten minutes later, she hung up and sat down at the table across from me. “Did you sleep all right?”

“No,” I mumbled and stuffed a huge forkful of French toast in my mouth.

“Was the couch uncomfortable?”

“No.”

She stared at me and pushed the food around on her plate as she snuck hesitant glances at me. “Are you mad at me, or are you just not super chatty when you get up?”

“I’m in a bad mood. Is it all right if I have a shower?”

“Sure.”

I
was
in a bad mood—that wasn’t a lie. Mornings were never my thing, but my normal bad morning mood mixed with the guilt of spending a second night with a girl who wasn’t Liv topped off with my paralyzing fear of flying was about to make me unbearable to be around. I didn’t want to take it out on her, especially since it was my own damn fault.

After I showered and went back into the room, she was packing. She eyed me cautiously, to assess my emotional state. “Do you feel better?”

I exhaled slowly to appear relaxed and cool, but the tightness across my chest and pressure in my head caused by the disappointment in myself refused to go away. “I have to go back to my place to drop off my bike and pick up my passport. I’ll meet you at the airport.”

“I can send a car to the house to pick you up.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll get one of the guys to drop me off.” It sounded snappy, and it was uncalled for since she was only trying to be nice. I knew I was being an asshole, but I needed to get out. Clear my head. Refocus. I left without looking back.

Liv would definitely hear the guilt in my voice if I talked to her, so instead, I texted her to tell her I was leaving in a few hours. She didn’t respond, which didn’t surprise me. I walked out of the hotel lobby and got on my bike that was still parked near the valet stand. Once I was riding in the fresh air, I started to feel better, but not entirely. I needed to figure out a way to do the job without hurting Lincoln in the process. I just didn’t know how.

It took almost an hour to get to the house, because the traffic was brutal. Mug was sitting on the front steps rolling a cigarette when I rode up and parked under the carport. I draped a tarp over my bike, then walked around to the front yard.

“Sup?” Mug asked.

I reached into my jacket pocket and handed him another two months’ worth of rent. “I’m going away for a while. This should cover my rent until I get back.”

“Are you taking off with that Lincoln chick?”

I stared at him for a second before deciding it was better to tell him as little as possible. “I’m going to be away for six weeks, working.” I climbed the porch steps and went inside. I packed a couple textbooks, my clothes, and passport into a hockey bag. Then I called Tomcat and the other contractor I normally worked with to let them know I’d be out of town.

Mug was still sitting on the steps when I stepped back outside.

“Do you have time to give me a lift to the airport?”

“The airport?” He chuckled. “I thought you were a pussy about flying.”

“I am. Don’t remind me.”

He pushed his palms against the porch and stood up. “If you can ride bitch with me while I hang it out on an L.A. freeway, flying should be a piece of fucking cake.”

“I guess we all gotta die sometime,” I said as I got on his bike and rested my bag on my lap.

“You can say that again, brother.”

Mug split the lanes pretty much the entire way to LAX, and I was so jacked up on adrenaline when he dropped me off at the curb that when I tried to text Lincoln to ask where she was, my hands were shaking too badly. I had to call her instead. “Hey, I’m here. Where should I meet you?”

“I’m running a little late. I’ll be there in ten.”

I laughed. “I leave you for a couple hours and you’re already running late.”

“I know. My hair wasn’t cooperating, and there are always photographers lurking around LAX. Hal already checked us in, so I’ll meet you guys there.”

Not thrilled about being photographed, I hung up and found a gift shop inside to buy a pair of dark sunglasses and a black baseball hat. Hal met up with me and gave me my boarding pass so I could clear security.

Lincoln was twenty minutes late getting to the gate, but they held the flight for her. We boarded last and settled into the first class seats. Lincoln sat next to me. Hal and Tim sat across the aisle from us. When the engines started up, panic flooded into my veins. Lincoln reached over and held my hand. “Are you a nervous flyer?” she whispered.

“Maybe,” I forced out through the strangled muscles in my throat.

A crease formed between her eyebrows, but her voice sounded calm and assured when she said, “Don’t worry. I’m a pro at flying. There is absolutely nothing to be nervous about. It’s safer than driving.”

Tim leaned into the aisle to catch the flight attendant’s attention. “We’re going to need some booze. A couple of everything.”

“Of course. Right away.” She turned and disappeared behind the curtain.

Lincoln released my hand and glared at Tim. “What are you doing?”

“The kid’s not going to make it through a fourteen hour flight if he’s scared of flying.”

Lincoln glanced at my knuckles. The blood had drained from them because I was gripping the armrests as if we were already in a dive and about to crash. After the flight attendant served Tim, he handed the selection of hard liquor mini bottles to me.

Lincoln crossed her arms and slouched against the window.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

There obviously was something bothering her, but the plane had finished taxiing and the engines roared preparing for take-off, so I got distracted. I downed three bottles and closed my eyes. Once we were actually in the air, I put my ear buds in and pretended I was on a bus instead of an airplane so I’d be able to fall asleep.

Three hours later, I woke up and made the mistake of looking out the window. As I started to hyperventilate, Lincoln slid the window shade down. Tim encouraged me to drink three more bottles, which relaxed me enough to fall asleep again. Three and a half hours later, when I woke up again, Lincoln was watching a movie. She smiled and paused her movie. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I want to get off at the next stop. I don’t know if I can make it.”

Her mouth stretched into a tight smile as if she wasn’t quite sure how to break it to me that I had no choice. “Why don’t you eat something and then watch a movie?”

“I don’t think I should eat.” The plane bumped, and we dropped down. “Whoa. What was that?”

She laughed. “Turbulence.” She leaned across me to ask the flight attendant to bring me a blanket and sleep mask. I drank another bottle of liquor, which Lincoln didn’t seem overly impressed by, but she didn’t say anything as she tucked the blanket around me and slid the mask over my head. “Try to sleep again. It will make the time go by faster.” She smiled before sliding the silk over my eyes.

I wasn’t tired anymore, so I put my earbuds in and listened to music until I eventually drifted off from boredom. We landed with a jolt. It felt like the plane wasn’t going to stop in time, and the noise was horrific until we slowed down to driving speed.

Lincoln applauded quietly. “You did it.”

“Don’t jinx it. We’re not standing in the airport yet.”

“I think it’s cute that you are so very uncool about flying.”

Self-conscious that she already knew the most embarrassing thing about me, I decided my only hope for saving face was a little self-deprecating humor. “What are you talking about? That was me being cool. Uncool would have been me lying in the fetal position, crying.”

She didn’t laugh. She just studied my face with curiosity. “You smile more when you’re drunk.”

I nodded with a big, stupid grin on my face, not because I was actually drunk. I was feeling high because I survived. “What time is it?”

She checked her phone. “Well, it’s just past seven in the morning in L.A. which makes it just after six o’clock at night here.”

I folded the blanket. “Did you sleep?”

“No. I’m scared to sleep around strangers. One time, a guy took photos of me sleeping on a plane and he posted them on the internet with photoshopped drool and snoring audio. Another time, I woke up to some creepy guy leaning over me taking a picture that looked like he was fondling my boobs.”

“You should have woke me. I would have stayed up so you could sleep.”

She laughed. “You were a nervous wreck.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” I laughed.

The plane parked at the gate, and the flight attendant moved to unlatch the door. Lincoln bent over to pack her book and earphones into her carry-on bag. When she sat up, she flipped her hair back over her shoulders and smiled at me. “Ready?”

I couldn’t blame the alcohol, since I wasn’t even buzzed anymore, but for some reason I blurted out, “God, you’re beautiful.”

Her grin stretched even wider, and she raised her left eyebrow. “It’s official. Unlike everyone else I know, you are a happy drunk.”

“Shit. I didn’t mean that. I mean, you are beautiful, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud. And I’m not drunk.” Avoiding the amused look on her face, I put the hat and sunglasses on before I followed her off the plane. It took forever to get through customs, and it seemed like it was because the guards wanted an excuse to go through Lincoln’s things. Two of the guys on her sound crew had some drug issues on their record, so Hal was working to get it all straightened out. Eventually, they let us through.

There were four tour buses waiting outside. Assistants took my bag while Hal gave me an international phone and the tour itinerary. “You’ll be hanging out and sleeping on Lincoln’s bus. The rest of the crew will be on the other buses.”

“Uh, Hal. I would rather stay on your bus.”

“It’s full.”

“So, switch me with someone, or let me ride with Tim or the roadies.”

“I need you on the same bus as Lincoln. It’s when she has down time that she gets all worked up.” He patted me on the back. “Take a look inside. It’s basically a two-bedroom apartment in there.” He walked away and boarded the second bus.

I stared at the bus Lincoln had boarded. I reminded myself that, if I fucked anything up, I wouldn’t get paid. Then I took a deep breath and boarded.

Chapter Nine

Hal wasn’t kidding when he said the bus was like an apartment inside, except for the fact that I could stretch my arms out and almost touch both the leather couch along the right side and the granite kitchen counter on the left at the same time. The floor was actual hardwood, the flat screen TV was high-end, and the stereo system was decent. Next to the bathroom, where Lincoln was showering, was a bedroom I assumed was mine. It was only wide enough to fit the single bed lengthwise, but there was a window. The other bedroom at the back was the full width of the bus. Lincoln’s clothes were strewn on the bed.

The movement of the bus combined with the jetlag and compact quarters made me feel woozy. I had to hold on to the wall to keep my balance. Lincoln stepped out of the bathroom with wet hair. She had on only a bra and underwear. “Hey. What do you think of your temporary home?”

“Uh, it’s nice. You want to put some clothes on?”

“Why? Don’t you think I’m beautiful anymore?” she teased and struck a few poses like a model.

“You’re hilarious.” I sat on the couch. She bounced over and plopped down on the couch next to me. She seemed completely comfortable in her state of undress, and she also seemed to be enjoying my discomfort. I read through the paperwork Hal gave me to avoid looking at her. Traveling on the same bus was a very bad idea.

“Are you excited about seeing me perform tonight?”

“It says here the first show is tomorrow night.”

“We flew for fourteen hours. It is tomorrow night because of the time change. Prepare yourself. We’re going to be up late.”

I groaned.

“What’s wrong?” She shoved my shoulder. “Didn’t you nap enough on the plane, old man?”

“How do you perform right after flying for that long?”

“Lots of Red Bull.” She popped the tab on a can of Red Bull and put her feet on the coffee table. “Then, about two weeks into the tour, I have a complete mental break down. Hal talks me down from the edge, and we do it all over again.”

“Sounds fun.” I shot her a stern expression. “Seriously, you’re not going to wear clothes?”

“I don’t want to get dressed into my costume yet. It’s too early. Why are you being such a prude? It’s no different than a bathing suit.”

“I’m not going to stay here if you plan on prancing around half-naked all the time.”

She huffed. “Grumpy Cain is back.”

“How about a robe?”

“Fine.” She stood up and wiggled her ass exaggeratedly as she walked over to the door that led to her room. I ignored her so as not to encourage the flirty behavior, but I couldn’t erase the image from my mind. It was going to be a long forty-three days. She reappeared a minute later wearing a pink silk robe and fluffy socks. She held my passport in her hand. “So, James Preston Allen, how did you get the nickname Cain?”

“How did you get the name Lincoln, Tessa?”

“My dad called me that because I was conceived in the back of a Lincoln. Classy, right?”

“What do you want me to call you, Tessa or Lincoln?”

She shrugged and opened the fridge to get an orange. “Whichever you like.”

“Which one do you like better?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If you don’t choose one, I’m going to call you Jailbait.”

“I don’t care what you call me, James.” She sat on a bar stool and peeled the orange.

“Call me Jamie or Cain. You sound like my grandma when you call me James.” I leaned back and pulled the string to open the wooden blinds and check out the view. There wasn’t much to see because we were on the highway surrounded by farm land.

“Is it like Cain from the bible?”

I turned around and checked out the satellite TV menu. “Cain from the bible murdered his own brother in a jealous rage.”

She popped a segment of orange in her mouth and stared at me as she chewed. “So, you murdered your own brother?”

I laughed because she sounded like she probably would have believed me if I said yes. “No. I was a shit disturber when I was a kid, and my mom used to always say she was raising Cain.”

“Are you still a shit disturber?”

My response was a mischievous smile before I got up to check what the fridge was stocked with. “What do you feel like for dinner or lunch or breakfast or whatever the hell meal it’s time for?”

“You cook?”

“Yeah.”

“Surprise me.”

I leaned on the open fridge door and glanced over my shoulder at her. “No. I’ll only cook for you if you tell me what you feel like.”

“So manipulative.” She pressed the buttons on the stereo remote control. “I feel like pizza.”

“All right, now we’re getting somewhere.” I found a can of tomato sauce and a bag of bakery pizza crusts in the cupboard, and cheese, peppers, and ham slices in the fridge.

She tapped the remote control against her palm. “This isn’t working. It needs new batteries.” She pointed it at the stereo again. The light on the remote came on, but it didn’t turn the power on.

I walked over and opened the panel in the wall that housed the electronics. One wire was loose, so I fixed it and hung the panel back up. “Try it now.”

She turned the music on and seemed impressed that it was that easy for me to fix it. “Thanks.” She opened a magazine and said, “I like pineapples on my pizza, and you can call me whatever you want except not Linny. I don’t like Linny because it makes me feel like a little kid.”

She was reading, so she didn’t notice that I smiled before I went back to making the ham and pineapple pizzas. “Do you normally travel by yourself in here?”

She flipped through the magazine pages and answered without looking up. “When I was younger, my dad used to travel with me, but I’ve been traveling alone in my own bus since I was thirteen.”

“You’ll probably find it annoying to have someone else around all the time.”

She tilted her head up and made eye contact with me. “It’s a thousand times better to have you here. You won’t annoy me.”

“I’m pretty grumpy in the morning.” I opened a can of mushrooms.

“I witnessed that. I don’t mind.” She closed the magazine and joined me in the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

“You can grate the cheese, if you want.”

She stared at the brick of cheese with a frown. Then she glanced around the kitchen as if she hoped there would be a machine labeled “Cheese Grater.”

“Haven’t you ever grated cheese before?”

She shook her head and appeared intimidated by the entire concept of cooking. “I’ve never cooked or prepared anything in my life. They always stock all this food in the kitchen for me, and I only eat the fruits and sometimes the carrots.”

I held out the cheese grater for her. “It’s not brain surgery. Just don’t scrape your fingers on it.”

She got the hang of it after a couple tries and then she grated the whole brick. It was enough cheese to feed the entire roadie bus. She looked so proud of herself, I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was too much. I showed her how to preheat the oven and set the timer, then we sat down and waited.

She swung her legs around to drape them over the arm of the chair. “What kind of shit disturbing did you do?”

“Things like pranks, mischief, and fights mostly.”

Her eyes widened with curiosity. “What kind of pranks?”

“Kid stuff. One time in the fourth grade, I rewired the school’s P.A. system and the phone lines so the classrooms could hear everything the secretaries and the principal were saying on the phone. I rigged it so they couldn’t just turn the P.A. off, and it took them forever to figure out how to fix it. The school board electrician told the principal that it wasn’t a prank a kid could have done. For a long time they thought there was a plot against the school.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

“Not from the school. My dad was the one who taught me to wire things, so as soon as he heard what happened, he knew I did it. He laughed, but then he whupped my ass.”

“Will you teach me some pranks to play on Hal?”

“No, but I’ll pull some pranks on you. If you can figure out how I did them, you can do them to Hal.”

She giggled in the way that sounded as beautiful as her singing voice. “No thanks.”

“Too late. I already have an idea.” I pointed at her in a mock threat. “You’d better sleep with one eye open.”

“I’ll sleep with mace.” She gestured as if she was squirting an imaginary spray can at me. “What kind of mischief did you get into?”

“All sorts of stupid stuff.”

“Like what?”

“We would rearrange store mannequins so they looked like they were having sex. Sometimes we would see how much we could steal in ten minutes, then we would leave the merchandise at the door because we knew they couldn’t charge us if we didn’t leave the store with it. We also broke into the school pretty regularly to put the furniture from the staff room into the parking lot or on the roof. A couple times, we went to the teachers’ houses and did things like let the air out of their tires.”

“It sounds like fun actually.”

I chuckled at the memories. “It was pretty fun, but between the ages of twelve and fifteen, I got a ride home in the back of a police cruiser at least once a month.”

“What happened after you were fifteen? Did they start throwing you in jail?”

“No. I stopped getting in trouble.”

“Why?”

“Because I met Liv.”

The smile on her face faded away. The buzzer rang, so I got up and took the pizzas out of the oven. She moved to sit at the bar and watched as I cut the pizzas into slices. “Did you meet Liv at school?”

“No. She went to private school. I met her at a party.”

Lincoln stopped asking questions and ate quietly. I could only imagine what she was thinking about. She looked sad.

We had reached the downtown core, so I watched the buildings of Rome flash past. It was dark, but a lot of sites were lit up to highlight the columns and massive statues. I was disappointed that there wasn’t time to explore the sites, but I reminded myself that wasn’t what I was hired for.

I finished my pizza slice, then asked, “Why is that necklace special to you?”

She reached up and rolled the plastic unicorn between her fingertips. “My dad gave it to me.” She didn’t elaborate, and I could tell by the way her eyes became watery that she didn’t want to talk about it, so I let it go.

After we washed the dishes, she downed another Red Bull. The buses pulled up into the airlock of the arena at eight o’clock local time. Her hairdresser Katee and makeup girl Jill boarded our bus and started working on her as she sat on a barstool and warmed up her voice.

“Ow, Jesus, Katee. You’re burning my scalp.”

“Sorry,” Katee said as she ironed Lincoln’s hair flat. “Sit still.”

“I am sitting still. I swear to God you want me to be covered in burn scars.”

“I’m almost done.”

Lincoln groaned and threw the magazine she was reading on the floor. Her annoyance increased as they made her stand spread eagle to spray her with some sort of glitter tan. “I’m starting to sweat. Why is it so hot in here?” She sneezed three times and scratched at her arms. She reached over and read the label on the can of body paint. “I told you not to buy this one anymore. It gives me a rash.”

“Sorry, Lincoln. We ran out of the other one. I tried to talk Hal into letting you go without, but they’re doing some shots for the video tonight. He insisted.”

“Great, don’t worry about me while my skin is driving me crazy all night.” She sneezed again and swatted her hand to make Jill stop powdering her cheeks. “I don’t want to look like a damn clown.”

“You don’t look like a clown,” Jill said calmly and reached in to apply more. “You look gorgeous.” She turned to me. I was sitting on the couch. “What’s your name again?”

“Cain.”

“She looks gorgeous, don’t you think?”

I glanced at her rainbow face and sparkly body as she scratched her arms. “She looks itchy,” I answered.

Jill and Katee both frowned. Lincoln smiled.

After they left, Lincoln changed into her first costume, which was a white cat suit thing. Then she sat next to me on the couch. “You shouldn’t get so cranky with Katee and Jill,” I said. “They’re just doing what Hal told them to do. If you have a problem with what he’s asking them to do, you need to talk to him.”

“I can’t. He does so much for me. I don’t want to whine and sound ungrateful.” She zipped her knee-high sparkled boots.

“Well, Katee and Jill seem pretty nice. If you’re frustrated with Hal you shouldn’t take it out on them.”

“They’re only nice to me because I pay them to be nice, Cain.”

“You pay Hal’s salary, too, don’t you? Just because you pay them doesn’t mean they’re being fake.”

She sunk back into the cushions and tugged at the crystal tassels that hung from her belt like a hula skirt. “How am I supposed to know who’s fake and who’s real?”

I shrugged because I honestly didn’t know. “All I know is that being mean to people isn’t going to make you a lot of real friends.”

Hal stepped onto the bus. “Show time, Linny. Are you ready?”

I nudged her to encourage her to tell him about her allergy to the body paint.

“What?”

“Tell him.”

She exhaled, then stood up. She fidgeted with her hair and stared down at her boots.

“Tell me what?” Hal checked the time on his phone and shifted his weight impatiently.

“Um,” she started, but then looked at me. I nodded to persuade her to keep going. “I’m allergic to the body paint. It gives me a rash, and I don’t want to use it anymore.”

He glanced at me and forced a smile. “Okay. Whatever you want, Linny. Let’s get a move on.”

Hal ushered her out of the bus, and I followed. The bus was parked inside the belly of the stadium, so we walked directly up a concrete ramp with Tim right behind us. Hal led us through a maze of corridors that brought us through a set of doors monitored by local security guards. Eventually we ended up at the side of the stage. Lincoln took several deep breaths. Then Jill rushed over to paint her face with more glitter. Lincoln glanced at me and politely said, “No more glitter. Thanks, Jill.”

Hal ripped off the headset he was yapping into and turned to face Lincoln. They rested their foreheads together, and she smiled with a calm confidence that was impressive given that she was about to step out on stage in front of an entire stadium full of people.