Mine: Black Sparks MC (14 page)

Still, the figure flashed before his face: $1.2 million. The very thought of it was like sex. Finally having money, finally being able to relax for more than seconds at a time. He could buy a proper home; he could buy Tryg's everlasting esteem by getting the Vipers off his back; he wouldn't have to look at Martin Malone's sniveling little weasel face ever again. But Liana. One glimpse of her face in his mind’s eye, her rich honey-colored eyes alternating terror and wonder, looking at him as if he were the only protector she’d ever been able to count on, and it was all he could see. He wanted to punch himself, punch Jack, punch a tree, for the unfairness of being put in this position. He had to end it.

"Don't touch me, scumbag. Stay the fuck away from Liana and the fuck away from me." He kicked the door of the Mercury all the way open. His bike was parked a few lengths down. If he were quick, he might be able to get out of sight and back to the house before anybody was able to take into account where'd gone.

"Stone." Jack grabbed his arm, jerking him back, and, for the first time, Nick felt a lightning strike of fear go through him at the glint off Jack's white teeth, his icy eyes, ravenous with hunger for the woman who slept upstairs in the house just a quarter-mile beyond the tree line. He tried again to pull away, but it was as if he were frozen there, suspended, helpless, in the strength of the Jack's gaze.

"I'm getting that bitch one of two ways. I just told you the easy way. You do
not
want to see the hard way."

CHAPTER TWENTY

Now, in the living room, Liana's lower lip quivered; she froze again, the same solid block of ice she'd been when Nick had tried to kiss her at the Ryans': unfeeling, unseeing. As if she'd been hurt too many times to care, she had curled in on herself. This was not the Liana he remembered; it was certainly not the girl he wanted to be responsible for bringing out. He wanted to eliminate that quality in her, to be the one she knew she could trust. And now, by trying to defend her, he had fucked it up all over again. And he knew he had to try to explain, though he knew there wasn't much chance of her listening.

"Li, it's not what you think. I went to see Jack to--"

"You went to
see
him?" she sputtered, her eyes suddenly huge and full of grief. Needless to say, he’d said the wrong thing. "You were sitting in his car? Having some friendly chat? I can’t
fucking
believe you. You hook up with
her,"
she pointed to Helena, concern flashing in her eyes as she gazed up to Nick, fingers creeping up on his arm. Angrily, Nick shoved them away. This was none of Helena’s concern. "You lie to me about it, then you plot to sell me out to Jack Camus? Maybe they're right. They're not right about me, but they were right about you all along. I’m sorry I ever came here." She looked frantic, hysterical, as if the walls were closing in on her, looking from the faces of the Sparks, lined up before her like a phalanx of leather, to willowy Helena, who held out her arms in what resembled a gesture of peace. But Liana wasn't having it; she sped past everybody like a blur, racing up the spiral staircase.

"Liana!" Nick called, darting after her, trying to catch her hair streaming behind her like a dark-golden flag.

Helena stood in front of the stairs, and grabbed for him. "Nick, no. Not now.

"Lady, what game are you playing?" Nick exploded at her, grabbing her expensive sleeveless blouse and pulling her toward him. Her face remained expertly made-up, her blue eyes fluttering in the semblance of innocence. "Last night, you were talking as much shit about Liana as anybody. As if it weren’t bad enough that you’re spreading around some bullshit about you and me being together." Nick turned to Tryg, "This whole thing is bullshit, in fact," he said. "Did you see how Liana reacted? That guy is dangerous. Whenever she talks about him, she closes up like she can't breathe."

"Did you see him or didn't you, Nick?" Tryg demanded.

Nick took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do to do anything else now but tell the truth, and hope it wouldn’t be damning beyond repair. "Yes. I went to see him. Okay? I did. But only to tell him to stay the fuck away from us," he added. It was wiser to come clean that he'd been there rather than risk the chance of opening up about the “deal” Jack had offered--especially if there were any chance of it getting back to Liana. “It wasn't something I had planned. And Liana didn't know anything about me going to see Jack; she would have killed me if she did know. Do whatever you want to me, but leave Liana out of it. You've got her totally wrong."

"Look, I don't know what's going on," Tryg growled, pulling Nick away by the front of his jacket in an alcove behind the stairs, stealing a glance at the men standing behind. "But I’m going to find out and, above all, there's one thing I do know:
you,
Nick, getting sucked into the girl's mind games again. I can tell. You told me you were over her, but it's clear you aren't, and you're letting it affect your judgment."

Nick looked at the floor, then up, gazing from Tryg to Helena to the rest of the Sparks, faces all impassible, all against him, all with completely the wrong picture. His shoulders felt as heavy as lead. Tryg snorted like a bull, drew himself up to his full height; the textbook biker with his jet-black knotted beard and tree-trunk arms, the don't-fuck-with-me-tattoos. Nick didn’t stand a chance. "I--"

"Shut up. I don't want to hear another word from you. I can't even look at you right now. Get out of my sight. When I want you, you’ll know."

Nick didn’t miss a beat. "No."

"No?" Martin burst out from behind Tryg. "What do you think you're--"

"I have to see her. Li--?" Nick called up the stairs.

But Helena was still standing in front of the stairs when he tried to pass. "Shhh." She grabbed him, pressed herself to him, stroking his back.

"Helena--" he struggled. He squirmed as she massaged his wrist under his shirt. He could hear his own breathing moderate, as the adrenaline looked for a way to release.

"It's okay, Nicholas. Take a deep breath."

He looked away from her, stared at a spot on the carpet, near where her coral-polished toes in their Louboutin peep-toe sandals pressed into the thick pile of the carpet. Even her feet were groomed and perfect and, for a second, Nick wondered what it would be like to submit to her. She certainly knew how to make it easy. He glanced up and swallowed as he met Helena's eyes.

She crinkled her eyes and turned up her plump lips into a smile. "Let her go. Let her be alone for a while. She needs space." She reached up a hand and stroked his face, and he felt his mouth part, even as he squirmed. "Now go. Take it easy. Go for a ride. I'll watch over her." There was something hypnotizing in her eyes, despite the fact that he still didn't quite trust her. He still thought fleetingly of pushing past her, of darting upstairs to Liana, of explaining everything in one breath, before she had a chance to object, to dismiss him.

But at last, he turned away in disgust, breaking away from Helena. He threw open the front door, kicking open the storm door violently and slamming it behind him, imagining Martin's head caught between the hinges. If that weren't bad enough, he'd left his bike parked a half a mile away.

"Hey, man, wait--" Tomahawk puffed up behind him.

As much Nick was tempted to let his friend offer some words of comfort, lame as they may be, he couldn't stomach it right now. He just wanted to go home and shut out the world for a while. If he couldn't see Liana, he didn't want to see anyone. "Not now, Tom. Leave me alone," Nick growled.

"But--"

Nick spun around like an enraged wolf. "I said Fuck. Off."

Tomahawk swallowed and was quick to scamper away, but another pair of motorcycle boots sounded behind him. It was Martin, sidling up to him like the slick little vermin he was. Nick walked faster toward where his bike waited. All he wanted to do was straddle it, hit the motor, and drive, drowning out the skinny man's irritating tone of voice, and all the other voices, shouting and judging and condemning. It was the only thing that might possibly work; the only peace he knew.

But Martin's mouth was moving before he was at Nick's side. “Hey-

“Shouldn’t you be having a celebratory scotch right now?” Nick growled as he spun around. “You got what you wanted by telling Tryg everything.”

"Trust me, dude, I didn't have to tell him
anything
. Anybody can tell from the way you were looking at her in there, holding her hand and shit. What was that, man?"

"If I turn around, I'm going to throttle you," muttered Nick. "So excuse me while I keep walking."

"Hey man, it's not all bad, at least you got some pussy, right? Martin said, practically licking his lips as he harked back to the scene he'd walked in on. "A week from now, she's still going to be wiping the sawdust out of her--"

Nick reacted like a provoked animal. It only took a second for him to have the shorter man shoved up against a nearby oak tree. "If I didn't have so much respect for the colors you're wearing, I'd rip your balls off and shove them down your throat," said Nick.

All Martin's semblance of friendship had fallen away. He gathered saliva in his mouth and aimed it at Nick's face. But by the time it left it mouth, it only reached the space where Nick had been standing.

And if he had the opportunity to confront Jack again, he wouldn't let him get off so easily.

The hard way.
Nick felt a sourness in his stomach whenever he paused to consider Jack's parting words; he didn't want to even imagine it--and the worst part was, he'd been banished from Liana's presence, so even if Jack did try something, Nick wouldn't be around to protect her.

He used to enjoy riding alone; when he'd gotten his first bike at eighteen, a junked Super Glide he'd helped Tryg to fix up and customize in the garage, he loved the level of freedom he'd felt when he'd first jumped behind the handlebars and kicked those pipes into gear – the idea that, if he really wanted to, he could drive toward the horizon and not stop until he hit an ocean. He'd never gone farther than Ohio, but the knowledge that someday he could--and would, if his dream ever came true--was enough. Sure the sound of the pipes, and the patch on the Sparks jacket that came with it, gave him power, respect, and the wide-eyed attention of the teenage girls who shoved at each other to hitch a ride on the back--but all of those were bonuses. It was the freedom he wanted, and it was indescribable for a kid who, for a year, had only seen that horizon through the barbed wire of the Circleville exercise yard. It seemed to give his soul wings.

But even that freedom seemed hollow now, as he rode toward home, alone, whipping along the curving roads around Helena's neighborhood. Nick felt like a ten-year-old who'd been sent to his room to think about what he'd done. And when he was called back, an insincere apology wouldn't be enough to make things right. Besides, he wasn't sorry. He wasn't sorry he'd confronted the man who'd replaced the light in Liana's eyes with sheer terror whenever she thought about him.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

The roof of the garage was one of Nick’s favorite spots in the world, but with the overcast sky and chilling breeze, it seemed lonely and more than a bit desolate. It was only two stories, but he could still see all of Prudence from where sat perched on the edge of the tattered lawn chair. He wished he could see beyond, out to the country, so he would know he wasn’t stuck there forever, that there was still a way out of this mess. He leaned forward and felt the evening breeze through his hair, taking a few deep breaths. He could do this, he reassured himself. There was a reason he wore the Vice President patch on his jacket: Tryg trusted him, and believed him. Nothing had changed.

Nick spun around guiltily when he heard Tryg’s heavy footsteps approach. He’d heard the bike and knew the confrontation was coming, though it didn’t make it any easier. He should have waited for the older man to speak, but there was too much he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to get out if he waited too long.

“Where’s Liana?”

“Still at Helena’s. Tomahawk’s there with her. He’ll keep her safe.”

“Martin?”

“On an errand.”

Nick knew he’d have to be content with that for now. Above all of his fellow Sparks, he trusted Tomahawk. Her safety assured, he could move onto thornier matters. "Jack knows where the shipment is," Nick said, careful to speak exactly as he’d rehearsed earlier. "He said he could get it back." He would have to be careful with this; if Tryg got the idea that Nick, in any way, intended to go behind the President's back, there would be a serious price to pay--and Nick's pockets were already empty.

"That’s too much for you to deal with on your own," Tryg said after a beat.

"But I told you I’d get it back,” Nick protested, already feeling like he was losing his cool. “And you have no problem sending Martin to take care of Chillicothe," Nick remarked bitterly.

"Enough," Tryg growled. "I realize Martin fucked up a lot during his time in the Cleveland charter, but that's behind him. He's proved himself time and again. Which is more than I can say for you lately."

“I told you, I--”

"Nick, shut up for a second and listen to me before I change my mind and put you on a permanent unpaid vacation. Stop digging yourself into even a deeper hole.” Nick looked away. “I have a proposal. I thought of a way for you to use that pretty face of yours for something worthwhile," said Tryg. "I want you to learn everything you possibly can about Helena Kinski – including what she wears to bed."

Nick felt himself pale. He opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He was already disgusted with himself, and he hadn’t even agreed to do it yet. The worst part was, that this should have been a prime assignment. A few months ago, maybe, it would have been something he’d jumped at the chance to do. That was before Liana. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” he asked finally.

"Kid, I'm not stupid. That husband of hers is tied up with some bad shit; she's admitted that. Whether she genuinely does hate him and want to screw him over, and wants us to help her do it, well, that remains to be seen. But we don't make a move with her unless we can be absolutely sure. The only way to find out is to get her to spill. She’ll only spill to somebody she trusts. That person needs to be you."

He hedged. "What about Jack?”

"Forget about Jack. I'll deal with Jack."

"But--"

Tryg cut him off with one sharp glance. "Unless you don't think you can handle it.”

"You don't understand. Liana told me--"

"Listen very carefully, Nick," Tryg said, emphasizing each word as he loomed over the younger man, blocking out the sun. "My niece is no longer your concern. She's mine and mine alone."

"But--

"Nick, that girl fucking ruined you," Tryg snapped.

"Don't you think I know that?" said Nick, leaping up from the chair, going to the edge of the roof, looking ruefully down at the town where it all started, the town he should have hated, the town where he had once been the boy who no one believed, where he’d been the foster kid who had been tried and convicted of trying to rape the homecoming queen--who would have believed him?

"So why are you risking letting her do it again?"

He had no good answer to that. The fact was that it was miracle that he had been able to crawl back up from disaster. It had taken Tryg's help; who knew where he would have ended up if it hadn't been for the older man standing beside him on the roof? He had once naïvely thought Liana was the best thing that had happened to him;
but she wasn't
, he told himself. Meeting Tryg, joining the Sparks, that was what had turned his life for the better. And he'd be an idiot to forget that, to throw it away over the girl who had already proved she couldn't be trusted. He had grown up. It was time to start acting like it.

"Nick, I'm not naïve,” said Tryg, his tone softening minutely, standing close to him, touching his shoulder, a fatherly gesture. “I've been around the block a few times, to say the least. I know when you told me you didn't feel anything for her, you were saying it as much to convince yourself as to convince me. But I'm telling you now:
let her go
. This is for your own good. It's time to put this girl behind you once and for all. I'm giving you a way to do that."

“Helena?”

Tryg nodded. “I saw the way she was looking at you the other day, the way she was feeling you up. I can see the sex radiating out of her eyes every time she so much as looks at you."

Nick looked down at the floor. "I knew Helena's intentions were more than friendly, but I didn't think it was that obvious."

Tryg chortled scornfully. "She's vulnerable, Nick. We can use that. I want to know whether she's dangerous, or whether she can be trusted. And you can do that for me."

"What do we really know about Helena?"

"That’s what I want you to find out. I want to find out what her husband’s connection to the Vipers is--whether she means it when she says she wants to screw them over, or whether she's playing the long con. If she is, you have to play the longer con. And who knows, if it works out? Well, you can't say it wouldn't be nice to have a decent roof over your head for once. Given what you've been up to lately, I suspect the fumes from living in that garage are killing your brain cells."

"So I'd be selling my soul,” Nick said petulantly.

"Essentially, yes." The corner of Tryg's lip raised.

"In that case, I think rather stay in the garage and just buy some new curtains."

Tryg turned around and faced the horizon, looking exasperated, rubbing his bald head. "I know you still care about Liana. I know it'll be hard to give her up, harder than anything else you've ever had to do. But if Helena ends up divorcing that sugar daddy husband of hers, she could be the meal ticket you've been waiting for. Don't say I never did anything nice for you, kid. I'm gift-wrapping her. She's the one you want, Nick. Not my niece. There's too much history there, too much baggage. You know that, I know that." Nick knew Tryg could tell he wasn't convinced. "Okay. Look at this way. Do it for her." Nick looked up in curiosity. "Look, I know you want to keep Liana safe. I want that, too. We all do. So if Helena's not on the up and up, better to find out sooner than later so we can get the girl out of there. And if she is, and you use that boyish charm of yours to rope her in, we'll able to use Helena's money and connections to get rid of Jack and the Vipers once and for all. This club will be on top. Then Liana can go back to New York safely, and you can both move on with your lives."

Nick nodded. If this was the one gift he could give to Liana, he should accept it. Logically, it made sense--that they both could move on with their lives, to put their past behind them. It wouldn't be what Nick had secretly dreamed for the past six years; it wouldn't be anything close. But Tryg, perhaps, was doing his duty as a father figure--helping Nick grow, to mature, to move on, to help him see that the time when he might have been anything more to Liana than a bodyguard was long over, and it was time he accepted it. Slowly, he nodded.

"That a boy. Don't let me down again." He clapped the younger man on the back, catching his eye with one of his trademark coal-black stares that managed to be a promise, a threat, and vote of confidence. Behind them, the sun had set, a single silver star shining above the horizon, over the pinkness of the sunset, and the cold, utter emptiness beyond.