Bound to the Bad Boy (15 page)

“I don’t know what you’re all
talking about.” Matt shook his head. “No idea at all.”

“Leave the lad alone.” Jeff
Mahoney laughed. “It’s his business…for now.”

Matt nodded his thanks. But he
knew what Jeff meant. As long as this thing with Megan was just a fling then it
was his business. But if it got serious then that made her an old lady again
and that was when things had to be decided. Like if she was trustworthy.
Which he knew she was.
Or had thought she was. But when she
abandoned him, he had wondered if he’d been right about her in the first place.
However, she’d never told anyone what she knew or brought any trouble to his
door. So of course he’d been right about her.

Which meant
that it was just him she had wanted away from.

He slammed his fist onto the
table then looked up stunned. His father was absent that day as he had taken a
few of the prospects out to a neighboring charter as part of their initiation.
That meant that Matt was head of the table in his absence. Usually, it didn’t
faze him at all but today, with his mind full of Megan, he wished he could just
sit back and let his old man lead the way.

“Well, I agree with what
Moonshine said about buying into that new OAP complex they’re building out off the
main highway.
I mean, traditionally, it
wouldn’t have fit our image but in the current climate, we can’t afford to be
picky.”

Moonshine nodded his agreement.
“All those in favor?”

The eight bikers around the table
stated their decision in turn and the motion was passed five to three.

“And on to the next issue…”
Moonshine perused a document in front of him. Seems that Mr. Beddingfield, our
attorney, has done some digging and…”

“Matt!” Moonshine was cut short
as a gangly prospect burst into the back room without knocking.

“What in the hell…” Jeff jumped
to his feet. “Don’t ya know that this ain’t the way we conduct business around
here, prospect?”

The prospect shook his head,
panting like a sick dog. “I’m…I’m real sorry, but I was on my way back here and
out by Matt’s place I passed a beat up Ford truck.”

“So?” Jeff growled.

“You’ll never guess who was
driving it.”

Matt jumped to his feet. Darn it.
He had heard that the lying scumbag had recently made parole but he hadn’t
expected the creep to show up in Cherub again. Did the loser have a death wish?

He headed for the door.

“Matt. Get back here.” It was
Jeff. “You ain’t going out there alone.”

But Matt didn’t heed him.

He raced across the car park and
over to his bike. His heart was thudding in his chest so hard, he could hear
only the thunderous whooshing of his own blood as it coursed through his
arteries and veins.
If Gil Creedy was headed for his place
then that concerned him big time.
For he had a horrible feeling about
what might happen when he got there.
If he saw Megan.

He cocked a leg over his bike and
kicked it into life.

Megan…Don’t open the door.

He repeated the words over and
over, but
try
as he might, he was unable to convince
himself that it wouldn’t happen. After all, what reason did Megan have not to
answer the door to an old school friend?
Especially the son
of their former principal.

She had no idea how dangerous Gil
Creedy really was. No idea at all.

****

Megan rushed around the bedroom
searching for something to wear. The driver of the Ford had climbed out and she
heard the clumping of his boots as he ascended the porch steps. From above, she
had seen that he was a large man beginning to lose his sandy hair. But the top
of his head gave her no idea about his identity.

She settled on a button up
checked shirt of Matt’s and a pair of his fitted trunk shorts. The shirt was so
big that it almost reached her knees. It would have to do. She ran a hand
through her sleep mussed hair and rushed out into the hallway and down the
wooden staircase.

She could make out the man’s bulk
through the mottled glass panes of the front door. He turned from side to side
as he waited, then knocked again.
Harder this time.
Anyone who knew Matt would know that he wasn’t home. His bike wasn’t here, so
he wasn’t here. But perhaps the visitor had seen her peering through the
curtains upstairs. So it would seem weird now if he was a business acquaintance
of Matt’s and she didn’t answer.

She approached the door and
reached for the handle.

She opened it a crack and peered
out.

“Well, hello there, missy.” The
visitor grinned broadly, exposing large, white teeth. He reminded Megan of a
door-to-door salesman about to embark upon his polished pitch. She wiped her
hands on her shorts behind the door. They were cold and clammy. Why did she
feel so uneasy?

“Good morning. Can I help you?”

The man moved closer to the door
and Megan instinctively took a step back, which meant that the door swung wide.
He took it as an unspoken invitation and stepped over the threshold.

“Are you…you’re not…Megan
Agnelli?” He eyed her naked legs and her perfectly polished toenails. He licked
his lips and Megan shivered. There was something familiar about him now she
could see him up close.

“I am.”

“Woo hoo!” He clapped his hands.
“After all these years.
You don’t remember me, do ya?”

She shook her head. Not who he
was but the feeling of unease she recalled. Yes.

“I’m Gil Creedy.”

The principal’s son.

“I haven’t seen you since we all
went off to college. How are ya?” His eyes were black with interest and a
predatory hunger that turned Megan’s stomach. She remembered Gil Creedy all too
well. The name and the face fit together now. He was older, fatter. He’d been a
few years above her in high school. He was a bully then and it seemed like he
hadn’t changed at all. A football player who went off to college on a grant
from one of the big city NFL teams, he was tall and broad. He dwarfed Megan and
she felt smaller by the second.
Powerless.
Afraid.

“I’m fine thank you, but I’m
really busy. I have an appointment so I have to…uh…
get
going soon.”

He looked her up and down.
“What…like that?”

“No…of course not…I have to go
get ready.”

“Wait!” He held up a large hand.
Megan noticed that the fingers were tattooed with different symbols. She wasn’t
sure what they were but they seemed angry. Like him. “What’re you doing here at
Matt’s place, anyways? He ain’t here, clearly.”

“He’ll be back soon.”

“Well I ain’t so sure about that,
pretty lady. I think you’re lying to ol’ Gil.” He reached out and brushed a
lock of her hair from her face. She winced.

“Look, you need to go. When Matt
gets back I’ll tell him you called. What exactly did you want to see him
about?”

Megan couldn’t imagine what Gil
and Matt could have to discuss. They hadn’t got on in school and for all she
knew, Gil had been away in college, graduated and now probably played football.
He certainly had the build. With those muscles, he must be able to bench-press
his own weight. But it was not with admiration that she thought this.
Not at all.
He made her uncomfortable and his strength
alarmed her.

“Are you two screwing around
again? Is that it?” Gil opened his eyes wide and Megan saw a small muscle
twitching at the crease of his jaw. What did he want? Her heart fluttered and
she took a deep breath. She had to show him that she wasn’t afraid. Men like
him preyed on a woman’s fear.

“Matt and I are…together. Yes.”

“Really?
Or is he just using you while you’re in town? Ya know, a handsome biker like
that…he’s always got a bunch of groupies hanging around him. Bet he’s poking a
different hole every night. Doubt you’re anything special to him…” Gil raised
his eyebrows.

Megan looked down. What if he was
right? Perhaps Matt really didn’t care anymore. She knew that he’d be popular
amongst the hangers-on at the mcc and she’d tried to push the thought aside.
Matt being with another woman was an image too hurtful, too abhorrent to deal
with.

So what was she doing here?
Leaving her nice, quiet and orderly life to be with a renowned
bad-boy biker again.
Her new life was safe. It was calm. It was boring
but at least she didn’t have to deal with all of this.
All
the old fears and passions and intensity.
It was just too much.

“Why don’t you just go!” she
shouted at Gil and pointed at the door. He walked towards it.
Thank goodness.
He was going to leave.
But just as she let out a sigh of relief, he placed a hand on the door and
slammed it shut. Then he turned towards her.
His grin wide.
His eyes blazing with fury.
His hands outstretched.

She backed away.
Bumped into the couch.
No…
No.

“What do you want?” Her lip trembled
and she cursed her fragility.

“A piece of your sweet little
cunt,” he muttered. “If you’re giving it to Matt, then I want it too. He owes
me.”

“What?
But
why?”

“It’s his damned fault that I
went down.” He reached her and took hold of her shoulders. She felt the power
behind his hands. He could snap her like a twig if he wanted. She was fragile.
Tiny compared to him. He pressed his face against hers. She recoiled as his
beer soaked breath wafted over her. She fought a scream as he dug his
fingertips into her flesh.

“What do you mean…went down?”
Keep him talking. Maybe he won’t hurt you
then. Oh Matt, where are you?

“To jail, you
stupid bitch!”

“Jail?”

“Yeah.
Your
darlin’ boyfriend got off, didn’t he? His stupid biker friends got my alibi to
change her damned story.” His face reddened.

“But…but Matt was put in jail for
a crime he didn’t commit.
He…oh.”
She covered her
mouth with her hand. So Gil had been the one guilty of the janitor’s death.
Poor Mr. Riley.
His sixteen-year-old daughter had committed
suicide following an alleged assault and the abuser had never been named
because she’d backed off before it had ever gotten to court. But just weeks
after her death, Mr. Riley had died in a house fire. The forensics had
concluded that it was an arson attack and somehow, probably due to some
corruption somewhere along the line, Matt had been accused of the crime. At the
time, Megan had been in her final year of college and she hadn’t wanted to
process the details. Matt, guilty of murder…or even manslaughter, had just been
too awful a thought. So she had stayed away. Let him deal with all of it alone.

Oh, Matt…

“Yes, Megan. I set fire to
Riley’s house. He kept on and on trying to blacken my reputation. Every time I
came back to Cherub to see my folks, he’d find me out and do his best to get me
all worked up. He wanted me to assault him so that he could have me thrown in
jail. Seems he was jealous of my success with the NFL. But I was too clever,
see.” He tapped his nose with a finger and his cold blue eyes glinted. “I got
rid of him before he could wind me up enough to throw a punch in a public
place.”

He was openly boasting about
killing a man. What would he do to her, if he were this angry with Matt?

“So…you…uh…Sandy
Riley?”
Megan lifted her hands and crossed them over her chest. She
wanted to drop to the floor and curl up in a tiny ball but she could barely
move.

He nodded.
Grinning
again.
He was clearly proud of what he’d done to Sandy. Proud of what
he’d done to Mr. Riley. This man was a murderer and a rapist.

“Whenever I came back, she was
always hanging around, flaunting her tight little ass and flashing her titties.
Sweet sixteen.
So, one day, I gave her a lift and
believe me, the girl had the surprise of her life when I didn’t just want to
settle for second base. What did she expect from a grown man? I’ve got needs.”

“How…how are you out?” she
squeaked, her throat constricting with terror.

“My alibi let me down but there
was no real conclusive evidence of murder. No DNA. They lowered the charge to
manslaughter. I served almost three years and they let me out for good
behavior. Psychologist said I wasn’t a real danger anyways and they gave me parole.
So here I am. Come to visit my old friend Matt. But look at what I got
instead.” He ran his thick tongue over his fat lips. “I got a pretty little
parcel of pussy and I’m wondering now if you’re a real redhead. Shall I take a peek?”

“No!” Megan gasped and ducked
away from him. She raced across the lounge and grabbed the front door handle.
She swung it wide and ran out of the door and down the steps. She heard Gil’s
roar of fury and his heavy footsteps as he pursued her down the driveway.
Adrenalin surged through her, driving her forwards and away from the brute at
her heels.

She ran and ran. Terror dried her
throat and threatened to choke her but she knew that if she faltered, she would
be shown no mercy. She would suffer the same fate as Sandy Riley.

Her heart leapt at a familiar
sound: the roar of motorcycle engines. She saw the dust flying up on the road
ahead. Matt was coming.
Matt and the Night Warriors.
Clad
in black leather, the knights upon their ebony chargers. Just in time. She kept
running, her arms swinging at her sides and her feet pounding the hard ground.
Her naked toes were torn apart by the stones of the road, Matt’s oversized
t-shirt was whipped around her by the wind and her lungs burned with effort.
She was terrified but now she would be safe.