“And what is the right thing?”
“It would be in every ones best interest if you come with me.”
“And what then, Mr. Chelios? I throw myself at Rocco’s feet and beg him for mercy he doesn’t possess?”
“He won’t give up.” The sharp clip of his tone hinted at both his and Rocco’s impatience.
“I know,” Eva said, hugging herself as a chill worked down her spine.
“Let me take you home.”
“That was never my home.”
“Use your head. It will be better for you to go back to him than to have him find you.”
“You and I both know that the result will be the same.”
“If you continue to defy him, people are going to get hurt.”
“And If I go back, he’ll kill me,” she whispered, closing her eyes to block out Chelios’ predatory stare. When had death stopped being a foregone conclusion, welcome even, and become something to fear? Her heart jolted painfully in her chest at the sound of a motorcycle in town, and provided the answer. Eva had only been a teenager when she’d decided love was a pipedream. Mox had proved her wrong.
Chelios turned toward the storefront, the Harley’s rumble catching his attention as well. Eva’s gaze shot to Miriam behind the counter. The older woman’s lips were set in a firm white line, her slender form ramrod stiff as she fussed with the coffee mugs.
“Are you expecting your white knight? I’d like to meet him.”
A knot of fear threatened to close Eva’s throat at the soft comment, and her wide eyes swung back to Chelios. His expression was inscrutable.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He tilted his head to the side and gave it a chiding shake. His lips quirked in the barest of smiles. “I’m sure that Rocco will be very interested in meeting Detective Brawer’s bastard.”
The flare of anger she felt at Chelios’ crass words concerning Mox’s parentage was in contrast to the icy stab of fear those same words elicited. He met her glare, letting the words sink in. Eva wrapped her hands around her mug of hot chocolate, fantasizing about pitching it in his smug face.
“Their meeting can be prevented. It’s in your hands. Until now, I’ve seen no reason to fuel the flames. Rocco knows nothing about your indiscretion.”
“Indiscretion?” Eva choked on the word. Was that what Mox was? Could the best weeks of her life be considered nothing more than a rebellious liaison? She almost laughed at the thought. Blue eyes filled with tears, and she mutely shook her head, fighting for breath to dispute Chelios’ trivializing words.
“You didn’t bite on the forever line did you, kiddo? That Kool-Aid isn’t for the likes of us. We’re realists. Life’s a bitch and then we die.”
The gruff understanding in the enforcer’s voice made it worse.
“You come back with me now, and the boss doesn’t need to know anything about lover boy.”
The bell over the door jangled. The deputy’s gaze was suspicious. His hand rested pointedly on his sidearm. Chelios rolled his eyes, and Eva prayed the small town lawman didn’t have a hero complex. She knew the dangerous Greek was armed.
“Everything okay here, Miriam?”
Miriam’s eyes met Eva’s in question.
“Yes. I was just getting ready to pay my bill. I’m sorry about that, Miriam.”
“It’s not a problem, honey. Is that friend of yours going to be okay? She looked a little rough, and she practically ran out the door.”
“She will be fine. Just man problems,” Eva whispered, making a show of digging in her purse for cash. She couldn’t meet the deputy’s eye as she stepped around Chelios and hurried to the counter.
She tensed when Rocco’s goon followed her. Was it safer to stay here? Would he follow her back to the apartment? Should she say something to the officer? Hands shaking, she dropped her change. Chasing the circling quarter, Eva cursed under her breath. Why the hell had she walked instead of bringing the truck? The answer didn’t improve her mood. Because she was stupid and had trusted Tawny.
Handing the money to Miriam, finally, she waved away the change and headed to the door.
“Are you new to town, Mr.…?” the deputy asked.
Eva chanced a glance back. The officer had stepped between Chelios and the door and was now waiting for an answer. Eva sent up a prayer of thanks and dashed out the door. Breaking into a stumbling run, she kept looking over her shoulder. The cold air burned her lungs. She would never make it to the apartment before Chelios escaped the deputy’s questioning.
A familiar logo on a store window was like a Godsend. Stealing one last frantic peek behind her, she dashed into the electronics store. Not even bothering to explain her plight, she circled behind the sales counter and allowed her shaky legs to collapse. Scooting across the floor on her butt, she pressed into the cubby under the counter and shook.
Tech scanned the storefront, big body tense as he searched for the threat.
“The bitch was supposed to be my friend, and she set me up,” Eva whispered, hugging her knees to her chest as the tears flowed.
“What’s going on, Eva. Talk to me. Who set you up?”
“She called, crying and wanting to talk. I met her at the bakery, and Chelios showed up. She knew. She set me up,” Eva choked out, anger raising her voice.
“You’re okay now, baby. Who fucked you over?” Tech drawled, trying to soothe her while keeping his eyes on the door.
“That bitch, Tawny. She fucked my man and fucked me over!”
The big man couldn’t contain a grin at the woman’s righteous indignation, but he sobered quickly. If Tawny had turned on the club, his brothers needed to know. She’d put Eva in danger. Tawny had been around a long time, and the women trusted her. Ginny would be livid. Jesus, Crux would be crazed if he thought his pregnant wife was in any jeopardy.
Tech forced his focus to the receipts spread out on the countertop as a now familiar figure strolled in front of the store. He had to give it to the guy; Constantine Chelios was one cool customer. He seemed impervious to the frigid temperatures as he peered in the window, his body language relaxed like any other shopper.
The seconds ticked by. Tech could feel the man sizing him up, his sharp gaze probing the store. Eva didn’t make a peep. Chelios reached for the door handle, his hand resting on the cold metal. Keeping his eyes down and the tension from his big frame took all Tech had as he waited for the door to open. His hand itched for the Glock under the counter.
The gritty strains of Shinedown’s Lynyrd Skynyrd cover rolled from his cell phone. Bowie’s intense emerald stare flashed up on the ID. Tapping the screen, Tech answered the call.
“Tech’s.”
“Get to the bakery. Eva’s got company again,” Bowie barked over the roar of bikes and wind.
“Negative. Pretty little thing is keeping me company, but the big bad wolf is at the door,” Tech drawled.
Bowie snorted on the other end, and the line went dead. The electronic chime on the door announced the end of Chelios’ indecision. Tech offered a friendly grin that he knew was at odds with his unique gothic biker look.
“Can I help you?”
To his credit, the cool bastard didn’t bother with deception.
“I’m looking for Eva Taylor. We were just talking at the bakery and were interrupted. I thought she might’ve stepped in here.”
Tech’s eyes shifted ever so slightly toward his office in the back before locking on the outsider. Give the fucker something to think about. The counter wasn’t going to provide much protection if bullets started flying.
“It has been my experience that if she runs off, the woman is really not into you.”
“Don’t you know the chase is part of the game?” Chelios asked with a smirk.
“I’m all about the hunt, but my gram taught me that sometimes no means no.”
They were both spared further philosophy by the Lords’ arrival. Tech grinned as Taz’s hog rolled right up to the door, coming from the opposite direction of the rest. Mox was the first through the door, his square jaw set. Tech watched Bowie shoulder through to plant himself at Mox’s side. The look on the big VP’s face said it was as much for Chelios’ protection as Mox’s. The others circled like a pack of wolves. Dirty denim, greasy hands, and leather cuts tossed proudly over mechanic shirts, they were an intimidating bunch.
Chelios looked around as the small shop filled up. His smirk was back as he asked, “Do you guys piss in packs, too?”
“Do all you gangbangers beat on women?” Crux asked, his scarred visage terrifying in his anger.
“If it hasn’t already been made clear to you and your boss, Eva has moved on. You’d be smart to do the same damn thing.”
Tech’s brows shot up. Articulate and straight to the point, the kid had a way with words that belied the fury banked in his pale eyes.
“I’m afraid that’s going to be a problem. Mr. Soriano and Miss Taylor have a long standing relationship, and he has no intention of it ending.”
“If Mr. Soriano would like to continue breathing, he should reconsider,” Mox growled.
“Tell your boss to man up and move on,” Bowie said, purposely looking down to highlight the full foot height difference between them. “We’re not telling you again.”
Chelios shook his head. “You guys don’t know what you’re getting yourselves into. Pretty faces are a dime a dozen. Women aren’t worth dying for.”
“Share that sentiment with your boss. I feel differently,” Mox said.
“Is the rest of your gang as eager to die so you can wet your dick?” Chelios asked, his gaze sweeping the group in question.
Mox took a step forward, crowding into his space. Chelios smiled. He watched recognition flare in the big man’s eyes a second before he hit his knees. Mouth open in surprised anguish, the young man reached to ease the pressure on the strained tendons in his wrist. Chelios distracted him with the nudge of a 45 caliber before turning his attention to the others.
“Ut uh. Step back or your friend’s arm is going to be the least of his concerns. Brain splatter is a bitch of a stain to get out,” he said coolly as the Lords surged forward.
Bowie waved everyone back with an annoyed chop of his arm.
“Better. Now, I explained the situation to Miss Taylor. She’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’s thinking it over as we speak. The point is if Mr. Soriano gets his property back, there is no need for us to come back, and no one gets hurt. It’s simple. Think about it,” Chelios said, and then lifted up on Mox’s wrist. “Up you go, Goliath. On your feet.”
Mox eased to his feet with a deep grimace of pain, and a path was reluctantly cleared to the door.
“You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us,” Reaper hissed as Chelios passed.
“It’s a noble philosophy, but one that will leave your women without a man and kids without their father. Be sure that the cause is worth that.”
Pushing open the door, Chelios backed onto the sidewalk. The gun disappeared as they stepped into public, but the hold on Mox’s wrist tightened. Stepping closer, his tone was conversational. “You have a long life in front of you if you make the right decision, kid. Don’t let lust get you killed.”
With a slight twist, Mox hit the pavement in agony.
Chapter ~ 27
Mox squatted down behind the counter. Eva was wedged into the cramped space underneath, knees drawn to her chest and eyes shut tight. Her freckles stood out against her pallor. Stretching his good hand out, he brushed his fingers over her tear tracked cheek. Her dark blue eyes flared wide, and then she scrambled out of her hiding spot, bowling Mox over in her need to be in his arms.
Groaning, Mox stretched out on the floor and held her tight. Sobs wracked her slender form, and she burrowed against him, fingers clawing into his ribs.
“I’ve got you, baby. Everything is going to be all right,” he murmured into her hair.
“Just as soon as we take the dumb ox to the emergency room,” Bowie grumbled, looking down at them in disgust.
Eva jerked back from him, inadvertently hitting his wrist. Her lips parted in a silent O as he cradled the injured appendage to his chest, face twisted in pain. Her hands trembled, hovering inches from his arm, afraid to touch him.
“I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“He’s not as tough as he thinks he is,” Rhys said with a laugh. “A guy half his size put him on his knees.”
“It’s probably just a bad sprain. I’ll be fine once I get some ice and a wrap on it,” Mox muttered, ears coloring.
“That kung-fu shit is a great equalizer,” Tech said with a sympathetic whistle.
“Come on. I’ll take you to the emergency room,” Rhys said, offering a hand to help his brother up from the floor.
“You’ll get back to work is what you’ll do,” Bowie said pointedly. “We’re going to be a man short in the shop as it is. I’ll get Amber to watch the showroom, and I’ll drive the lovebirds over to the ER. Make sure that Tawny stays put. Zeke’s going to want to talk to her.”
The pungent smell of disinfectant made Eva’s stomach roll. She huddled in the cheerless waiting room, Mox’s leather coat clasped to her chest. The doctor had said that the tendons in Mox’s wrist weren’t torn, but it was a nasty sprain. They were going to have to immobilize it for four to six weeks to give everything a chance to heal.
Bowie stood near the big automatic doors leading outside. He’d been on his cell phone since they’d gotten there. Apparently Tawny had made a beeline for Handle Bars and Hot Rods when she’d left the bakery. She had not, however, hung around to wait for the guys to get back. Bowie’s side of the latest conversation indicated Zeke was none too happy with the situation. Leave it to the backstabbing bitch to play both sides of the game.
Chelios’ words played over in an endless loop in her mind. The man’s brains were perhaps more surprising than his brawn. His argument made sense. If she stayed here, more people were going to end up hurt, maybe even dead. Next time he wouldn’t come alone.
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. Rocco didn’t know about Mox. Maybe if she could come up with a sympathetic story making Rocco out to be her savior… The thought was laughable, but if she could just find a way to appeal to his megalomaniac ego. Her head lolled back on the top of the chair, and she squinted at the florescent lighting. Her head throbbed, eyes dry and red from all the tears she’d shed today.