Angels Don't Cry: A Biker Erotic Romance (3 page)

 

She told him to piss off and drink his beer, but what he said hung around in her head the rest of the night, and it was there to pester her when she woke up this morning.

 

"I don't hate him," she murmured as she sat down at her desk in the office and drank a cup of coffee.

 

She really had a thing for Liam when she was around eighteen. A
gorgeous monster
is the way she thought about him. But hell, every girl that knew him had a thing for him. He was surrounded by willing pussy.

 

Did she still have a thing for him?

 

"Fuck that," she growled, while something in strong disagreement curled in her gut. "And fuck you too," she sighed at her gut.

 

It didn't matter, she explained to herself. Liam was one of those guys that owned what he laid hold of, and if she allowed him to lay hold of her, he was going to want to own her too. And that shit wasn't going down for any man. "Even him," she snarled.

 

"What?" Liam asked as he came through the office door.

 

"Nothing," she snapped, and then took a breath. "What? What do you need?" she asked with a calmer voice.

 

"Had some issues last night," he said, seeming to calm himself as well.

 

She looked up into his eyes and felt frozen for a moment. He had great eyes—dark, heavy, strong. The kind of eyes she could melt into for hours and never be bored. "Issues?" she managed, pulling herself away and becoming very interested in her coffee.

 

"Rick's Strip Club," he said with a nod. "Couple of Devils without patches started some shit. Bob Turner was there, dealing with a pussy-seller. Shit went down and Bob went to the hospital."

 

"Fuck," she breathed, "How bad?"

 

"Broken rib, he's out and at home now, but he's down for at least a month."

 

"What about the Devils?" she said, her eyes hard.

 

He grinned, "One of them is still in the hospital. The other has a dislocated shoulder. Bob made himself known."

 

She didn't ask if he was sure they were Devils. If he said they were, then they were. "Any damage to the place?"

 

He lifted an eyebrow, but said, "Not that I noticed."

 

She nodded and sipped her coffee, thinking.

 

Fucking with the franchisers directly was a knee-jerk reaction, bound to the belief that if the franchisers felt that they weren't protected, maybe they would be willing to go to someone stronger. She mused over that, adding it to the tactical picture in her head. The Devils had to be reeling from the shutdown she put in place. A great deal of time, effort, and cash went into their move. It must have been a real pisser to be stomped on so hard.

 

She looked up and caught Liam staring at her tits. She looked down at herself, making a show of following his eyes. She was in a tank-top without a bra. "Something on your mind?" she asked.

 

"Shit," he said harshly, "Get a grip."

 

"No grip here for you," she told him, and then changed the subject before he could respond. "What do we know about the Devils' cash flow? They in good standing?"

 

Liam bit back his retort, fire in his eyes, "As far as I know, no one is beating on them for cash owed."

 

"Any idea how many prospects they have? Are they growing?" She asked, noticing that Liam's eyes were locked on her own now.

 

"Six current, and membership doesn't appear to be an issue."

 

"They have, what? Sixty members?"

 

"Yeah, something like that," he agreed, his eyes still burning with serious anger.

 

Hate? Does he hate me?

 

She didn't like the thought that Liam might hate her. The girl inside her cringed at the thought that he might not find her attractive at all.

 

Fucking grow up!

 

"Seems like a knee-jerk to be fucking with Rick's, don't you think?"

 

Liam gave that some thought. He wasn't good at tactical, but if you pointed him in the right direction, he caught on pretty fast. After a moment he said, "You thinking something’s pushing them? Inciting them move on us?"

 

See, quick as they come,
she thought, a feeling of pride for him surfacing and instantly becoming annoying.

 

"I don't have a thought. Not enough there for a thought, but I have a worry. My worry is, if something is riding herd on them, then this shit is about to get worse. My question is: What? If not money, and not membership, and no visible reason to need more territory, then what could be the motivation? Sixty members? Would they even have enough men to keep the Strip once they took it from us? I mean, adding it to the territory they already have. They have some sweet spots down on the beach."

 

The fire in his eyes died down as he began calculating in his head. "Not really, no. Not with only sixty."

 

"Well, adding six prospects isn't going to get them there," she mused, talking more to herself than to him. "So, why go after territory like the Strip, when you have no need, and don't have the resources to hold the place after your investment?"

 

She got up from the desk and walked to the window, looking out at the empty parking lot. "I also don't like how fast they were able to move. Five days? And if you hadn't shut them down as hard as you did, where would they be now? A usable network? That is some fast fucking moving, and that takes money."

 

She wondered briefly if he caught on to the peace offering she slid into that spiel. She hoped he did. This fighting between them had to find a solution. Something was moving out there, something that had deep pockets and a will to see the club hurt, or broken. She could feel it out there in the dark.

 

Bottom line was: she needed Liam. Not for getting her here, but for keeping the club out of a war. She needed his strength and his power. They made a good team together.

 

She looked over her shoulder and found him staring at her ass now. A playful thought crossed her mind to shake it a little, but she squashed it and looked back out at the parking lot.
I did enough with the tits, let him look.

 

Instead, she said, "Have Clark drop what he's doing and ride under you down on the Strip. Get two more members down there with you as well. Normal cash incentive. I don't like this." And then she turned completely to face him. His eyes were once again locked on hers.

 

Liam nodded and turned to go. Once he had the door open, he paused and without looking back he said, "I don't need you to rub my ego." Then he walked out, closing the door behind him.

 

"Well, at least he noticed," she murmured.

 

This leadership shit is hard
, she thought to herself. Uncle Jim made it look effortless, but the more she sat in that chair, the more of a genius she felt he was. She witnessed Uncle Jim—several times—tear into men like Bear, Roady, and even Liam. Cutting them to fucking pieces with his tongue, yet always maintaining their respect and loyalty. That was some amazing shit when you stopped to think about it. She looked at the door, thinking of Liam, hoping that someday soon she would begin to develop that skill... whatever it was called.

 

Tomorrow was their next drug drop and it had her nervous as she walked back over to her desk and sat in her chair. There was no reason to believe that anyone outside of the club would know about it or cause a problem, but her instincts told her that something was very wrong. There was nothing to point at though. No signs, no evidence, nothing. "Just a worry."

 

"Fuck it," she said, pulling out some paper and pencils, using them to draw maps of the drop area from memory. "How would I ambush us?" she mused.

 

***

 

"What the fuck is this shit?" Liam growled, his voice much stronger than normal, vibrating the walls.

 

"Why is
this
a problem?" she retorted. "Of all the shit we got going on, why is
this
the issue you decide to focus on?"

 

She had altered the plans for the drop, adding in several backups and spotters. Liam wasn't happy about her changes. In fact, he was downright pissy—if a guy his size could, in fact, be pissy.

 

"Look at this shit!" he blared, "Why not just have the whole club out there?"

 

"Well, I thought that might attract too much attention," she said, and the snide tone in her voice was even grating on her own nerves. The look in his eyes after she said it told her it wasn't doing him any good either. "You know, engine noise and shit," she said, trying to add humor. The fires lighting in his eyes now told her she failed miserably with that as well.
This guy needs a fucking blow job.

 

The image of her soothing him back in her chair and sucking him off came unbidden and unwanted to her mind with startling clarity. She damn near blushed.

 

Shit.

 

Then an insight hit her between the eyes. "I thought Jim took care of this shit." Her voice was much softer, and the statement came out more like a question.

 

"
I
take care of this shit," he said, his tone reaching close to a snarl.

 

Oops.

 

She backed up a little and nodded. "Alright, I crossed a line, I'm sorry."

 

"You're..." he started, and the shock value was embarrassing to her.

 

"What? I fucked up," she said, feeling a little defensive now, "But here's the deal, Liam. And I can't prove it to you, and I can't tell you how I know. I just do. Alright? I think we are going to get hit tonight. So, with that in mind, how would you set us up? Begin with the idea that the hitters know how we normally run security at the drop."

 

His face did that contorting thing she was becoming use to, as he was driven through several conflicting emotions. When it calmed again, he looked down at her map. "Well, you are using a hammer to swat a fly. Here..." he said, and started altering her plans.

 

She watched as he brought to life a security setup that used fewer men and was twice as effective as the one she worked most of the night putting together. He did all of this within minutes as she looked on.

 

"Did you really just come up with that, or is this a set up that you have used before?" she asked, a little awed.

 

He glared at her.

 

"Fine. I wasn't trying to rub your ego. Fucking get laid, will you?" she snapped, and turned her attention back to the new setup he rendered, ignoring him.

 

It was a good layout, and after a minute she said, "Good, make this happen then. And I want to be there, so where do I fit in this?"

 

When he didn't say anything, she looked up, and couldn't quite read the expression on his face. It was sort of like that contorting thing he did, only at really high speed. "Liam?"

 

He visibly shook for just the briefest of moments and then his normal glowing anger returned. "Why would you be there at all?"

 

"This isn't a debate. I'm there. It is going to happen. So, where do I place myself?" she said coldly.

 

His large hand clenched and then opened again. She pretended she didn't notice and stared at him, waiting. After a few moments, he pointed his finger to where he had a spotter. "Here."

 

"Fine," she agreed.

 

***

 

It was cold, and very dark. Lizzie watched the surrounding area through night vision goggles, squatted down next to Phil, the spotter assigned to this post. They scanned the surrounding open land with serious diligence, and the longer she was out there, the more she knew she was right. The hairs on her arms and neck were bristled.

 

The drop was placed near the Mexican border. One truck was expected. Anything more than that meant trouble. She had a total of ten men out here, plus herself. She already checked the 9mm she was carrying so she resisted the urge to check it again.

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