For the first time in days I hadn’t been thinking about the woman who had turned my new family’s life upside down. I wasn’t scared to face down that bitch. I almost relished the thought of running into her. I’d show her what it felt like to be scared of someone. A chick didn’t grow up with Raven Hannigan and not know how to fight back. I would have shown that crazy cunt all the things I’d picked up growing up in the MC would.
Ignoring Jet’s questions, I asked a few of my own. “How’s Raven? Hawk?”
His eyes narrowed to little slits at the mention of his brother’s name. “Hawk has an ol’ lady now. Gracie Morgan. Raven’s married and has a son. She called him Max.”
Happiness for my best friend filled my chest. Raven was married and had a baby boy. I could picture Raven with her son, and the ache to see her grew until my heart actually ached with the need. “I’m happy for her.”
“Well, she’s not happy with you right now. She’s been in tears almost all day because she saw the news. I’m under strict orders not to come home without you.” He crossed his arms over his wide chest, making the shirt strain that much more over the new muscles.
I laughed, figuring that I really was dreaming. There was no way in hell I was going home with him. Just as there was no way in hell that Jet would actually want to take me there.
Jet
How was it possible that she was even more beautiful than I remembered?
She wasn’t as thin as she’d been when she’d come to San Quentin to tell me she was leaving, but she wasn’t as luscious as she had been when we’d been together. It was the perfect in-between, with all her curves rounded in an hourglass figure that made my body ache with a need that no one but this female could ease. Her hair was shorter now and dyed a vibrant cherry red that put a natural blush into her cheeks. It was because of that hair that it had taken me a moment to recognize her when I’d seen her on the news weeks ago—but only a moment. I could spot my Flick a mile away.
Thanks to the news coverage of what had been going on with her boss, I hadn’t had to go looking for her. As soon as my parole officer had left the house earlier that evening, I’d gotten on my bike and rode straight to her. The damned idiot man had taken his sweet-ass time and I’d been out of patience by the time he’d left, but now that I had my eyes on the only person I’d been aching to see for far too fucking long, all that irritation quickly faded.
But it was only to be replaced with a new frustration. Didn’t she care about her own safety? She was out on a dark, deserted street several blocks away from the tour bus I knew she’d been staying on. There was no sight of any of the many guards I’d been watching for the last hour or more, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to get inside that fucking bus and get Flick without causing a shit-storm I didn’t particularly want to stir up.
Then Flick had just walked off that bus and started walking. I’d followed her at a slower pace, but I probably could have been running after her and she wouldn’t have heard me. She’d seemed to be lost in her own mind, as she’d gazed down at the burner phone in her hands. I’d held back when she’d suddenly stopped and made a call. I hadn’t heard what she’d said, but the look on her face had made me pick up my pace.
Flick had been in pain and my only thought was to wipe that heartbreaking look off her beautiful face.
“Are you even allowed to leave Trinity County, Jet? I figured you would still be answerable to your parole officer. You’re going to get tossed back in prison if you aren’t careful.” She sounded both disbelieving and concerned.
“My parole was up today, Flick. I’ve got all the paperwork I need. I’ve been waiting impatiently for this day to fucking get here. Otherwise I would have come after your sexy ass weeks ago.”
A disbelieving snort escaped her. “Yeah, okay.” Flick shook her head, a sad smile on her luscious lips. “Well, thanks for the visit. I’m going back to the bus now… I’m probably asleep on the couch. I’ll probably wake up with a damn crick in my neck,” she muttered to herself.
I caught her wrist as she started to walk past me. Her entire body seemed to jerk as if she’d been electrocuted. Her head shot up and confusion darkened her eyes for a second before the confusion turned to a glare. “You’re really here.”
“Of course I’m fucking here. Did you not hear a word I just said, Flick?”
She rolled her beautiful blue eyes at me and I wanted to spank her luscious, sexy ass. “Yeah, I heard you, but I didn’t believe it. I thought I was dreaming. What the hell, Jet? You can’t be here.” Her eyes glanced around us a little frantically. “The paparazzi is everywhere, damn i
t. If they see you here…”
I shrugged, unconcerned about any damn paparazzi. If anything, the whole pap thing would work in my favor. “What’s wrong, Flick? Afraid they will put two and two together and come up with fifteen? Scared they will find out I killed a man for your boss?”
Her face went deathly pale and I realized I’d hit the nail right on the head. An evil grin tried to lift my lips but I stopped it before it could completely form. I’d been wondering how the hell I was going to get Flick to come home with me willingly. Now I knew exactly how I could without having to tie her sweet ass to the back of my bike. It was a bastard thing to do, but I wasn’t going to let that keep me from getting Flick home where she belonged.
“Be quiet,” she commanded, glancing around once again.
“Why? It’s not a secret, is it?” I leaned closer to her, lowering my voice to a stage whisper as I lifted a brow at her. “I killed that fucker for Emmie Armstrong, right? She’s the reason you had me kill Grady.”
As soon as I’d realized just who Flick was working for, I’d done some digging on Emmie Armstrong and her family. I listened to Demon’s Wings often, but I hadn’t ever really known anything about the band. Emmie had been the band’s surrogate sister—and from what the papers said, was really Jesse Thornton’s little sister. She’d been orphaned at eleven and gone to live with the band. At eighteen she’d become their road manager and then right before she’d married Nik Armstrong, she had started her own management company.
I also knew that Vince Grady had been her adopted niece’s biological father. The sonofabitch had taken the girl, putting Emmie in the hospital with a concussion and the possible miscarriage of her second child. I’d gotten all that information from tabloid stories, so I wasn’t sure how true all that shit was. It hadn’t been long afterward that Grady had showed up in San Quentin with me. I remember the guy being one big bruise with a broken nose—fuck, a broken face—and several casts. I could only imagine what Thornton had done to the prick when he’d gotten his hands on him. There had been true rage in the beating of Grady.
Just as Hawk had said, there had been desperation in Flick’s voice when she’d called him to ask for her favor. A favor I hadn’t thought twice about fulfilling…and using to my advantage now.
Realization flashed in Flick’s eyes. “You wouldn’t,” she breathed.
“Ah, Flick. Have you really forgotten so much about me, baby? I’m a ruthless sonofabitch who will do anything to get my own way. Don’t give me what I want and I’ll find the first jerk with a camera and tell him all about how Emmie Armstrong got me a message asking me to kill her niece’s deadbeat father.”
Fire blazed out of those blue eyes I’d fallen in love with so many years ago. “Emmie had nothing to do with that and you know it. I put the hit out. You didn’t have to take the job.”