Blood in the Water (Kairos) (18 page)

Only when her flesh had finished pulsing did he pull his hand free and rest it on her thigh as they both recovered from the experience.  He still held her gently, reluctant to break the moment by moving.  Eventually, though, Ashleigh made to sit, so he lifted her back up.  She stood, making an attempt to straighten her clothing.  As much as Paul knew they couldn’t spend the night under the bridge, he felt the loss of her keenly.  He pushed himself up to standing and the emptiness was soothed a little when she stepped in close to him, dropping her hand to cup his aching shaft through his jeans.

“What about you?”

He took her arms and looped them around his neck because if she kept squeezing like that he was going to come like a thirteen-year-old with his first Penthouse.  He rested his own hands on her hips and tried not to think about other scenarios in which he could hold her like that “You can owe me one.”

“I better make it count, then.” 

Fuck, but her voice all throaty like that might just do the trick without her even needing to touch him. “Yeah, I’m goin’ to hold you to that.”  He coughed.

“Dean warned me about you, you know.”

“Funny, he warned me about you, too.” Paul wondered if Dean’s protective instincts were going to become a problem.

“What about me?  I’m hardly the black widow type.”

“No, not what you might do, more what I shouldn’t.”  But he had done it anyway.

“I take it tonight would be on that list?”

“Not in so many words, but yeah, it would.”

“His bark’s worse than his bite.”  Paul wasn’t about to shatter any loving sisterly illusions, but he didn’t think he was in too much danger of Dean causing him any serious damage, yet.  His mind yanked back to the present when Ashleigh shivered.

Paul kissed her lightly, resisting her attempt to make the kiss deeper.  “I’m goin’ to take you home.”

He laughed at the look on her face.  “Don’t worry, beauty. I’ll be collectin’ that debt.  But I don’t want to rush you.”

“Rush me?  It’s been almost a year.”  He liked the impatience in her tone.

“I know.  But this could be a serious thing, considerin’ where we both stand in the club and all.  I want you to be sure.”  He had to give her one last chance to back away, even though just the thought of that had him pulling her fractionally closer.

“Oh honey, I’m sure.”  Her voice resumed that Mae West intonation that did nothing for his resolve.

“Yeah well, I’m still gonna give you some time to think about this. Not too much time, but some, before we get any deeper.”

Even as he said it, he knew it was too late.

Chapter
Ten

If someone had told Paul that one day he would be reluctant to see his brothers from the Rabid Dogs, he would have called them a liar and then killed them in one of the most painful ways he knew how.  And yet that was the situation he now found himself in.  His former brothers were due to arrive any minute, and he would rather have been anywhere else than in the Priests clubhouse waiting to greet them.  However, he was just going to have to suck it up.

It had only been a couple of weeks since the last run, but the Rojas family had been in touch about a small set of packages that needed to be moved quickly.  They would fit in saddlebags, making the run one of minimal risk to the club.  It would just be a group of brothers out for a ride.  The Rojas family was providing a set of saddlebags for each bike that were modified with hidden compartments.  As long as they weren’t in the vicinity of any sniffer dogs, they would stand up to even a thorough search.  The Rabids had collected the merchandise in the modified bags from their contact at the border that morning, and had ridden east all day.  They would be spending the night at the Priests’ clubhouse and heading back west in the morning as the contingent from the Priests took the packages to their destination.

Paul didn’t know yet exactly which members of the Rabids were due to turn up, but he knew that Jimmy or Giles would be in the group, and that they’d be looking for some sort of update from him.  Even if he had still been fully on board with his mission, he wouldn’t have had anything to tell them yet, at least nothing useful.

He was trying to come up with an exit strategy that left everyone intact.  He wasn’t sure if it was even possible, but he’d always been known as a consummate planner, and he was going to give this his best shot.  It wasn’t even a choice any more; he couldn’t kill Samuel.  It wasn’t only Ashleigh that was getting in his way; it was more that in the brief time he’d been with the Priests, he had found he wanted to stay.  He was proud to call Samuel his president, and he was reveling in the family that the club represented.  He couldn’t tear that apart. 

Even if he had been trying to plan a way to take Samuel and Terry out, the only time he could see the opportunity to do so without drawing suspicion in his direction was during a run, but they never went on one together.  Simply shooting them while they were in Absolution would be suicide.  Ordinarily he might have suggested arranging some sort of arson attack on their houses, but that option now filled him with cold dread, because now he knew there was no way he could guarantee that Ashleigh wouldn’t be collateral damage.  He didn’t think that Jimmy and Giles would agree that he needed more time to work things out.  Samuel and Terry had a death warrant, but they wouldn’t die by his hand.  Somehow he had to keep everyone alive.

The more Paul thought about it all, the greater his sense of foreboding about the whole thing.  Watching Samuel at work was putting Jimmy in a whole new light for Paul, and he was beginning to see that his former president was weak and easily led.  The Satan’s Tails were behind this plan and Paul had a feeling that even if he completed the mission he’d been given, the Tails would wipe everybody out and salt the earth.  He’d never been unhappy with the monetary situation in the Rabid Dogs regarding the deal with the Rojas family, and to the best of his knowledge neither had anyone else.  They seemed to receive a fair proportion of the deal, and they had always received it promptly.  Paul didn’t think the level of greed behind these maneuverings was anything less than nuclear level.

The lineup for the run was Samuel, Paul, Dean, Sinatra and Morse.  Two of the Prospects had been called up because Tag’s bike had developed an exhaust problem that had taken it off the road.  That Tag still hadn’t discovered the fault and fixed it was the source of no small amount of irritation.  The underlying current of tension in the clubhouse was just one more difficulty to Paul’s already uneasy state of mind.

Paul couldn’t decide where Ashleigh figured on that list, at least in terms of the next twelve hours or so.  It had been a week since the night at the creek.  That evening had left him simultaneously hornier and more satisfied that he’d ever been, two states he had never thought could possibly coexist side by side.  He’d been avoiding her physical presence, knowing that being near her was only going to end one way, but they’d spoken on the phone every night.  So far she was showing no signs of backing away, quite the opposite.  Paul didn’t think he could hold out much longer.  He wasn’t sure how it was going to happen, but he was going to get that woman naked and under him and it was going to happen soon.  That she would be at the clubhouse tonight helping her mother and Dolly as usual was testing enough, but that the Rabids would be there was a complication.  There was no way on this green earth that any of them wouldn’t try and hit on someone that looked like Ashleigh did.  He wasn’t sure what his reaction was going to be to seeing that, probably over the top.

Morse, Sinatra and Geoff were all readying the clubhouse, specifically the bar, for the imminent arrivals.  Everybody else was relaxing, taking the time to enjoy a quiet beer.  When they heard the sound of Harley engines and tires crunching over gravel, they all either finished their drinks or left them where they were and went outside to greet the arrivals.

Five bikes rolled to a halt, the riders parking them at the end of the line of the Priests’ bikes.  Paul recognized everyone even before they dismounted and removed their helmets.  Along with Jimmy, Garfield, Travis and Rabbit was Sloth, now bearing full club colors.  He tried to relax as the new arrivals approached.  He didn’t want anyone asking why he was so on edge when he should have been anything but.

Jimmy and Samuel greeted each other first with a firm handshake.
 
“Jimmy.  Good to see you.  Smooth run?”

“Yeah.  It’s always good to get a long ride in.”  Jimmy replied, rolling the knots out of his shoulders.

As the presidents finished greeting each other, the other patches stepped forward and there was friendly chaos for several minutes as handshakes and backslaps were exchanged.

As Rabbit was recovering from a particularly vigorous slap on the back from Paul, Paul hiked his thumb at Sloth.  “I see he made the vote.”

“Indeed.  The kid’s proved himself.  Think he’s the only prospect we’ve had that Garfield only took in the ring to find out what he was made of and not ‘cause he wanted to kill him.  Can’t say that ‘bout the ones we left back home.”  Rabbit didn’t look pleased to be thinking about their current crop of Prospects.

Samuel raised his voice over the chatter.  “The beer’s on ice inside.  We’ll have a sit first, catch up.  Then you boys can kick back and relax.  Our house is your house.”

Jimmy turned to his group.  “Unhook the merch, boys.  Let’s not leave it out here in the sun.”

As the five riders from the Rabid Dogs unhitched the saddlebags from their bikes Samuel called over.  “Like we planned, we got spares for you boys to carry your own gear back in.”

Jimmy nodded.  “Appreciate it, brother.  We’ll get squared away after Chapel.”

They headed into the cool shade of the clubhouse.  Samuel led the way into the Chapel.  The members of the Rabid Dogs, following Samuel’s indication, dropped the bags in the corner of the room where the empty sets of spare bags were already waiting.  Samuel waved to the Prospects.  Morse, Geoff and Sinatra came in carrying trays full of bottles of beer, which they handed around, serving the presidents and the dusty travelers first.

Jimmy took the seat at the foot of the table, facing Samuel at the head.  Terry took his usual seat at Samuel’s right hand.  Travis, standing in for Giles, took the seat to Jimmy’s right.  Dizzy and Garfield as SAAs took the seats to their presidents’ left.  In the interests of equality for both clubs and because not all the Priests could take their usual seats, everyone else found a seat on the chairs that had been brought in and lined up against the walls.  It was an informal arrangement, and no one not at the table bothered much about who they sat next to.

Samuel slammed the gavel once to cut through the idle chatter that had continued into the room.  The quiet that followed was almost instantaneous.

“I spoke with Eduardo this mornin’.  The Rojas are still a happy bunch of bunnies, with us at least.  The aggravation they’re havin’ with the Mexicans, a group callin’ themselves Los Perdidos, is powerin’ up, though.  He sent a warnin’ that we all need to keep an extra set of eyes out.”

“Did he say anythin’ about helpin’ us stay whole?”  Jimmy asked.

“No, you know he expects us to mind our own backs.”  Samuel replied.  “But of course they’re doin’ what they can to put the upstarts back in their rightful place.  When they succeed, and I have every faith they will, things will quiet down again for us.”

Paul didn’t think it would be as visible to those in the room that weren’t patched to the Priests, but he had heard, and he was sure some of the others had, too, the impatience in Samuel’s tone. 

He knew Dizzy was alert to it when he spoke next.  “It don’t matter what the Rojas are gonna do to help us.  Fact is you need to take care on your way home tomorrow.  We’re short or we’d put an extra body on our end of the run.”

Paul realized that Dizzy’s statement explained the current of irritation with Tag.  They were a man down at a difficult time and that man was not doing enough to make sure he was a fully functioning member.

Samuel opened his arms expansively.  “Anyway.  I think that covers it all, boys.  Go on out there and enjoy yourselves.  The food should be out by now, and the girls will be here.  Have at it.”

Dean was nearest the double doors and he threw them open wide to allow the members of both clubs to stream into the main room.  As Samuel had promised, food had been set out and the club girls were milling around, dressed to impress.  As far as Paul could see, that meant they were wearing a hell of a lot less than usual, and what they did have on was tight and shiny.  They barely caught his eye, though.  He spotted Ashleigh heading back into the kitchen as he made his way to the bar.  He winked at her and she grinned back before she disappeared.  Someone had put music on.  Fucking Bon Jovi again.  It had to have been one of the girls.  If it was one of the boys he was going to find out who and beat the shit out of them.

Paul called for whisky and shot glasses at the bar and handed a brimmed glass to Sloth.  “Congratulations, brother. I knew you’d make it.” 

Sloth slammed back the shot and smiled wide.  “Thanks, bro.  Shame you weren’t home.  That party was epic.”

“Sorry I missed it.  You held your own?”  Paul really did regret missing the party a little.  Sloth was a good guy.

“Oh I was talkin’ to God on the great white telephone by the end, but I did alright.”

“Good boy.”  Paul slapped him on the shoulder and leaned in close.  “Word to the wise, Katie’s got a mouth like a vacuum.  Leave Leah alone, she’ll keep Kong busy and you don’t wanna get in his way.  If Katie’s taken, Annabelle or Tricia are worth your time.”

“Thanks, Shark.”  Sloth said gratefully.

“No problem.  Just try and get in there before Rabbit or you’ve got no chance all night.”

“True dat.”  Sloth said sagely and nodded his head in agreement.

Looking around, Paul realized Ashleigh hadn’t re-emerged from the kitchen.  Seeing that Moira and Dolly were standing with their men, he decided to go looking for the woman who was keeping him awake at night.  He found her still in the kitchen.  She was leaning over the counter on her forearms, her legs crossed at the ankle, reading a magazine with a bottle of beer at her elbow.  He tried to sneak up on her, but he knew she’d heard the door open and that she knew who was behind her by the way she stretched and arched her spine. Playing along he stood behind her, leaning down to cover her, resting his hands on the edge of the counter, so that he could kiss her shoulder.  Regardless of the rowdy crowd of people just beyond the unlocked door, Paul couldn’t help the way his hips reflexively thrust against Ashleigh’s ass, but he managed to catch himself before he pulled her jeans down and fucked her up against the counter.

“Who you avoidin’, beauty?”  He murmured at her ear, breathing deeply of the smell of her skin.  If she was avoiding him, if she had changed her mind, he wasn’t going to guarantee that he wouldn’t go a little crazy, but from the way she was flexing back against him he didn’t think that she had.

“Not you.”  Ashleigh murmured in reply and turned her head. Accepting the opportunity she’d presented, Paul kissed her, and groaned into her mouth when she flexed again.