BikersLibrarian (14 page)

“Truth.” Shooter narrowed his eyes and studied the office
building where Peter worked. He put in late nights, staying long after his
staff left. With Specs and Gadget collaborating they were going to kill the
computer, loop the feed and allow him time to get inside and hand-deliver a
message.

Curling his hand into a fist, Shooter cracked his knuckles,
anxious for the secretary to leave for the night. “Is he fucking her or what?”

“I hope not. She’s old enough to be his mother.” Moose
wrinkled his nose and Shooter laughed.

“Never a dull moment when you’re around, bro.” Shooter
tapped the steering wheel and shifted his weight in the seat.

“I know, you’re lucky you got paired with me, eh?” Moose
winked and Shooter rolled his eyes.

The front door of the office swung open and Shooter sat up
straight. “Finally.” The secretary, Martha Wash, walked over to her car, got in
and drove off. A few minutes later his phone vibrated. Lifting it, he grinned.

“Gadget says we’re good to go. The video footage has been
looped and he’s alone in the building.”

The world faded around him. One driving thought
remained—protect Juliette at any cost. Quietly entering the building, they took
the stairs to the second floor. They’d spent a few days casing the place and
getting Specs and Gadget inside to set up the equipment. A few inches from the
door, Shooter reined in his fury. He wanted to kick the damn thing in and go
agro, but it wasn’t what this situation called for. In order to take away
Peter’s control he needed to be the master of himself. When you let your
emotions rule you got sloppy. The slimy bastard would respect him more if he
kept his temper under check. Peter obviously valued control greatly or he
wouldn’t go to such lengths to control every aspect of life around him. Turning
the knob, he pushed the door in and grinned at the stunned expression on Peter
Stant’s face. His jaw flopped open like a fish, and his hand paused
mid-signature on a paper.

“Surprise, Stant. I figured it was time we pay you a visit.”
Moose shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “We got your present.
Real cute hiring someone else to do your dirty work for you.”

“I resent those bogus allegations.”

“Listen to me you, son of a bitch. We both know it was you,
so let’s cut to the chase.” He stood in front of the desk, popping his neck to
ease the pressure that had formed. “You need to leave Juliette alone. She’s not
interested and this time around she has someone who’ll stand up for her.” Reaching
across the desk, he gripped him by his lapels and dragged him across the
surface, slamming him onto his back. The thud vibrated the room and sent items
rolling onto the floor. Leaning over the pale-faced man, he growled.

“You fucked with the wrong woman. You should’ve stayed away,
found someone actually interested in you and your sick games.” Removing one
hand, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a knife. The body beneath him
went as stiff as a board.

“How does it feel being the one to fear for your life?”
Holding the thick military-grade blade up, he pressed the sharp point into
Stant’s neck. “I don’t bluff. You come near her again and I’ll come back here
and start carving your ass up like a turkey. Maybe I should start now. Give you
a couple scars to match that ugliness you got inside.”

“N-no, please.” His voice wobbled as he begged. Fear clouded
his eyes and his breathing grew shallow.

“Please? You think I have an ounce of mercy in me for you?
Bro, you got that cigar handy?”

“Yep.” The sound of a lighter case opening broke the
silence. A few seconds later a wisp of smoke curled around them. Shooter held
out his hand and Moose rested the stogie in his palm.

The smell of urine assaulted his nose.

“Jesus, he pissed himself.” Shooter snorted and, bringing
the cigar to his mouth, blew a cloud of smoke in Stant’s face.

“The way I hear it, those who inflict pain on others weaker
than themselves are the worst kind of bastards when the odds are evened,” Moose
said.

Disgusted, Shooter released Stant and stood. “I will tear
your world apart piece by piece until I get what I want. Do you understand me?”

Tears and resentment swam in Stant’s eyes.

“I don’t think he does,” Moose said.

“Let me make it clearer.” Shooter brought the lit end of the
cigar down, moving to stab the desk at the last minute. Peter cried out like a
child.

“Bitch.” Walking to the bookshelf he began to throw picture
frames, books and anything else he could get his hands on, to the floor. When
the office was thoroughly trashed, he stopped.

“You don’t want me to come back here, Peter. Forget about
Juliette.” The man remained silent, but the anger simmering in his eyes and the
tension in his body told Shooter he’d remain a problem. “Let’s go.” Not wanting
to give Stant an opening to regain his abused manhood, Shooter backed out of
the room after Moose.

Leaving as quickly as they came, they held their tongues
until they were a few miles away from the office.

“I want to believe that was the end of Stant, but I’m too
paranoid.” Shooter banged the back of his head against the headrest of his
seat. “Fuck.”

“I don’t know. The man pissed himself. He might steer
clear.”

“After five years?”

“That was before she had a protector capable of fucking him
up. I mean he pretty much just lay there and took it. Not much of a bad-ass. ”

“I hope you’re right, Moose.”

“True enough. You know whatever you need, we got your back.”

“I know…let’s head back. I have the sudden urge to see my
old lady in person.”

Tension stiffened his muscles as he ran through different
scenarios in his mind. He was in for the long run with Juliette. The woman
turned him on and captivated him like no one had ever done before, even
Angelina. The pain that used to explode in his chest every time he thought of
her had become a dull ache thanks to Juliette. He wanted to tell her about all
of his past to get to where he wanted to be. He’d seen the curiosity in her
eyes when he hinted at what had happened. It was only a matter of time until
she asked him. If he balked, he might lose the best thing to happen to him
since Mayhem.
Can I open up that rusty chest of memories without losing it?

Juliette couldn’t help but feel nervous as she placed books
back on the shelves. Working in the back by herself had always been something
she looked forward to—a break from the stillness the front desk offered toward
the end of the night. With fewer people in the building, the front desk got
boring, fast. Tonight it seemed like a prelude to a horror movie. She glanced
back and forth as she pushed the cart. The creaky wheels stood the hair on the
back of her neck on end. Her ears twitched and she paused.

Nothing.

Laughing at her paranoia, she continued on. The break-in
still had her on edge. She moved toward the end of the aisle. A body appeared
and she jumped back and screamed. A tall man in a black suit with a skinny tie,
tan skin and a perfect dark haircut held out his hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“It’s okay.” She held a hand to her chest. “I thought I was
alone back here. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Actually…there is, Juliette.” The warmth left his voice.
She stepped back, placing space between them.

“There’s no need to run. I’m only here to deliver a message.
The visit wasn’t appreciated. We can get to you anytime, anywhere. You’ll never
be safe. If you want to play a game of whose dick is bigger, I assure you,
we’ll win.” Stumbling back into the bookshelf, she gripped the metal to keep
herself up right. Her knees trembled. Terror took hold, paralyzing her.

The man smirked. The smug expression triggered an explosive
volcano. Gaining her feet, she stood tall.

“You tell Peter he can go fuck himself. This is his final
warning. Back off or what happens next will be on his head.” Hiding her fear,
she hoped the show she put on would convince him.

“Oh you have grown leaps and bounds out on your own. He’ll
love breaking you in all over again. You cut out before he introduced you
properly to the club.”

Her stomach rolled. “Get the fuck out of my library.”

“I’ll be seeing you real soon…and hopefully one of those
pretty friends of yours. We’d like to add a little color to our collection, and
we’re a perfect match—four of you, four of us.” He puckered his lips and gave a
mock kiss. “Be seeing you real soon, sweetheart. Don’t play hard to get too
long. I don’t think you’d like the casualties that’d bring. Best to lie down
and take it like a good girl. You do remember how to do that, don’t you?”

Shaking with rage, she growled.

The walking cologne ad turned and disappeared. Abandoning
the cart, she hurried to the front. She drifted through the rest of the night
in a daze and called Shooter. Things had been strained since the incident at
her house a day ago. But this was bigger than that.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“No, One of Peter’s friends paid me a visit. I don’t know
what you did, but he’s pissed.”

“Tell me everything.” His clipped tone left no room for
argument. “Better yet, I’m coming to get you myself. You can tell me in
person.”

“My car—”

“That’s what a prospect is for. I’ll be there in ten.”

Ten? “Where were you?”

“It’s a surprise.” He hung up and she shook her head. She’d
be eating her weight in crow tonight.

A motorcycle had never sounded so sweet. She ran down the
steps of the building and threw herself into his arms.

“Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll always come for you, baby. Even if you’re being a
giant pain in the ass.”

“I was out of line. I knew it then, but I couldn’t force
myself to admit it out loud.” She swallowed, keeping her face pressed against
his chest. “It was too much too soon. I felt like I couldn’t afford to lose any
more ground.”

“More ground to who? I’m not your enemy.”

“I know that, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. You didn’t
deserve my misdirected anger. I’m sorry.”

“You know sorry won’t always fix everything, right?”

“I do, and I’m working on it, I swear I am. But I know
you’re still holding back too.”

“Fair enough. Apology accepted, baby.” She inhaled his
scent, holding tight to the safety he provided her like a child with its wubby.
“Now, how about that surprise before we let pencil dick ruin the rest of our
night?”

She smirked. Leave it him to make light of the situation.
“I’d like that.” He took her bags from her and placed them into the saddlebag
and she climbed on behind him. Arms wrapped around his waist, she wondered what
he was up to, when they pulled onto her street and into her driveway.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You’ll see.” He helped her get off the bike and they made
their way into the house.

“Oh my god! What did you do?” Her house was pristine. The
clean, crisp scent of cleaning products and sunshine tickled her nose. She
stepped in the house and spun in a circle, taking it all in. There were
replacement things here and there but all fit her tastes.

“How?”

“Prospects…and the girls, Evonne and Hil picked replacement
items while Joey kept you company this weekend.”

“I knew those two were up to something when they left
early.” A profound surge of gratitude swept through her. “Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do. Fucker should’ve never gotten
to you in the first place.” His jaw turned to granite and she caressed it with
the backs of her fingers.

“You’re not god—you don’t control everything.”

“No, but I take care of my own. He’s fucking with that.
Which means he’s toying with my manhood. Only person allowed to do that is
you.” She smiled. His tiny turn of phrases were poetry to her ears. Every
admission made her feel closer to him. “Come on, baby. Let’s check out your new
pad.”

After putting the inevitable off for thirty minutes, they
retreated to her couch with beer, wine and pizza.

“Wait, are you trying to tell me that pussy had underlings?”
Shooter asked.

She shook her head. “Best I can tell, he’s referring to his
fellow club owners. I have no clue who they actually are. He was a man with a
lot of friends, and he kept me out of the loop. Probably because I would have
run off screaming if I knew what he had in mind for me. Their threats scare the
shit out of me, because unlike most people they can back them up. I saw the
extent of Peter’s power back then. I can only imagine it’s grown by leaps and
bounds.”

“What kind of things did you see?”

“Traffic tickets dismissed and wiped from the system,
competition bowing out when it wasn’t in their nature. I thought back then they
were intimidated by him and figured they were going to lose. Now? Who knows
what the hell he did to the poor people.”

“Well he’s about to be dethroned and put out of commission.”

“Shooter, you should take him seriously.”

“Trust me, I am.” His voice lowered and filled with gravel
and grit. The unflappable front he put up masked his true feelings. The closed
expression frozen on his face scared her. This was the Shooter a person feared
meeting in a dark alley.

“What do we do next?”

The muscles in his neck corded and he turned to her. “I
think it’s best if I don’t tell you that. I do have some questions. What do you
think means the most to him?”

“Control followed closely by his image, wealth and power.”
She frowned.

“What?” Shooter took her hand.

“He doesn’t understand no. He walks away. Not the other way
around. That’s really what this is about now.”

“You don’t think he’ll stop, do you? Be honest.”

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t.”

He nodded. “I’m worried about that, but right now it’s
speculation. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it when it comes.”

* * * * *

Shooter pulled the t-shirt over his head and placed a hand
on Juliette’s bare back. He shook her gently.

“Baby, I’m headed out. Hawk’s going to camp out here while I
take care of a few things.”

“Mm-kay.”

“I’ll be there to get you after work tomorrow. Hawk will
drop you off in the morning.”

“Mmhmm.” Her eyelids fluttered open and he leaned down to
deliver a kiss. Putting his game face on, he grabbed his cut off the chair and
shrugged it on as he walked into the living room. He answered the door when
Hawk knocked a few minutes later.

“Hey, man, thanks for coming by.”

“No problem.”

“Juliette’s passed out. I want you to keep a close eye on
her and make sure the prospects post themselves in the coffee shop across from
the library. Anyone even halfway suspicious enters the place and I want them
there.”

“You got it.”

“Good, now keep your charm to yourself and keep my old lady
safe.”

“I can only promise one of those things.” Hawk grinned
rakishly and Shooter scowled.

“Better make it two, pretty boy.” Clapping his shoulder, he
moved past him out of the house. He’d arranged a meeting with Specs and Gadget
at the club. Tonight they’d show Stant he wasn’t the only one with power.

* * * * *

“Tell me what you got. I want this fucker shitting himself
when the morning comes.” Shooter slammed the meeting room door behind him,
walked over to the table, and sank into the seat beside Moose.

“We have a neatly bundled list of clients who will not want
to be identified, services rendered and questionable shipments. A lot of people
have been paid to look the other way. We put out some feelers. Turns out they
tried to talk the Crazy Eights into a deal not too long ago.”

“What, they want to branch out?” Shooter asked, scowling.

“It looks like it. They stand to make a lot of money. If
they take over the strip clubs they’d dominate,” Gadget said.

“They’ll move in on our territory over our dead bodies,”
Shooter said.

“They must realize it. I think that’s why they were doing it
slowly, claiming one club at a time and trying to make nice with the M.C.s. The
Crazy Eights hate flesh peddlers so they turned them down flat. A lot of others
aren’t so particular as long as you’re paying green,” Specs said.

“This problem is a lot bigger than I ever anticipated.”
Shooter shook his head. “We need to keep Prez in the loop on this one.”

“Done. How do you want to handle this?” Specs asked.

“We send Stant the information, let him know if he doesn’t
back off that’ll be in an email to every prominent paper by the end of the
night.”

Moose frowned. “What the hell is that going to do?”

“Push him over the edge.” Shooter smirked. “There’s no way
in hell I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. This
can only end with him in jail or six-feet deep.”

“You got a preference? Cause one is really easy to
accomplish without all this,” Moose said.

“I want that bitch’s tower to crumble. I owe Juliette his
destruction.”

“Nothing says I love you like the ruin of an ex,” Moose
muttered.

“In this case, yes.” Shooter inclined his head.

“Shit. You didn’t deny it.” Gadget pointed toward him.

“What?” Shooter frowned.

“That you love her.” Specs stared at him like he’d grown a
second head.

“I never said I didn’t. Keep it to yourself for now. I
haven’t gotten a chance to tell her. Kind of hard when the bottom keeps falling
out from beneath us.” He shifted in his chair, glancing down. “Let’s just stay
focused. Specs, Gadget, dump the stick on his front porch and send out the
emails. I want him to sweat it out, try to make amends and realize in the
morning how fucked he is.”

“You think this will bring him down?” Moose said.

“I think it’ll send him scrambling to do damage control and
he’ll do the rest. He’s not used to riding bitch. It’ll make him sloppy and
paranoid,” Shooter said.

The skeptical looks on their faces made him smirk.

“I know how to play fuck-fuck games. Special ops here,”
Shooter said.

“Oooh, pulling out the big guns, eh?” Moose smirked.

“Fuck you guys. Come on, let’s get this shit done.” Pushing
away from the table, Shooter stood.

“What are you going to be doing?” Moose asked.

“Hopefully my old lady.” Shooter winked and made his way
back out of the club.