Clutch: Satan's Fury MC (6 page)

BOOK: Clutch: Satan's Fury MC
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I’d only been at the house for a couple of days when I’d gotten the call from Cotton. He’d given me free reign for weeks, but his patience was wearing thin and it was time for me to get to Memphis. After saying my goodbyes to my folks, I gathered up my shit and got on the road. I’d made it into Memphis well before dark, giving me plenty of time to get settled before my meeting with Gus the following morning. When Cotton called, he gave me an address to a diner where I was supposed to meet up with Louise. She had all the info on where I’d be staying while I was in town.

Louise was the VP’s ol’ lady and ran a diner as one of their fronts for the club. Her brother Cyrus was also a member and helped her out by doing all the cooking at the diner. When I pulled up to the address that Cotton had given me, I was a little shocked. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but seeing the name of Daisy Mae’s plastered on the outside wasn’t it. When I walked through the front door, I quickly realized it wasn’t your typical burger joint. Pictures of Elvis, B.B. King, Morgan Freeman, and other famous people from Memphis were plastered all over the walls, and a low blues melody was playing from the jukebox. The few people that were sitting in the booths didn’t look like they were in any rush to leave as they sat there talking and drinking their cups of coffee.

I made my way over to the front counter and sat down on one of the empty stools. I’d barely gotten settled when Louise came out to meet me. She quickly gave me the rundown of the apartment and where it was located, and after she’d given me the key, she brought me out a plate full of fries and a burger big enough for two people. I’d just taken my first bite when I overheard the kids next to me arguing.

“Scoot over. You keep hitting me with your stupid elbow!” the sister grumbled.

“You scoot over. You’re the one that’s all up underneath me, smart one,” the boy told her with sarcasm. He was a big kid, around fifteen or sixteen years old, where she was a bit younger, maybe twelve or so.

She gave her brother an overstated eye-roll, like a typical teenager, and grumbled, “You are such a jerk, and you look like an avocado.”

“An avocado? Really? You’re so stupid it’s not even funny.”

“Well, you’re stupider because you have the brains of an
avocado
,” she snapped back.

“Would you please just stop talking? Every time you open your mouth, you say something stupid.”

She flipped him the bird and then sassed, “
Char-lie
. How’s that for saying something stupid?”

“Uhh … give me a break,” he growled under his breath. I smiled, remembering how Molly and I used to argue the same way.

I was reaching for my glass of tea when the boy turned to me and asked, “You got a sister?”

“I do,” I answered.

“You want another one?” he offered.

“Nah, man. One is plenty,” I laughed. “Hang in there. It gets better.”

He glanced back over to his sister, seeing that she was glaring at him with an evil eye, and said, “It better, or I’m gonna lock her in the damn closet.”

“Livie! He’s saying mean stuff about me again,” the sister called out to one of the waitresses. She was saying goodbye to one of her customers in the back of the diner. He looked like he’d seen better times, and I watched as she dug in her apron and pulled money out of her pocket to cover the tab. When she didn’t answer, the sister shouted again, “Livie!”

The waitress’s eyes grew wide as she looked over at the young girl. The brother then jabbed her in the side with his elbow and mumbled something under his breath. The sister’s face flushed red, and then she looked up to him and whispered, “I forgot.”

“You can’t forget,” he told her sternly. “Ever.”

She looked down at her lap. “Okay.”

When the waitress approached the counter, the young girl turned to her and whispered, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

The waitress leaned over her and smiled as she softly said, “It’s okay. I don’t think anyone was paying attention.”

The waitress looked over to me for just a brief moment, but it was long enough for me to wonder what she was doing working at a biker’s diner. It was plain to see that she was no club girl. I glanced over at the tag on her uniform and read the name Hazel and immediately thought she didn’t look like any Hazel I’d ever seen. I stared at her for a moment, trying to figure her out. She was a beauty, even with the fear and pain that lurked behind her eyes. Her uniform was simple, plain white with a dark blue apron tied around her waist, and showed off the perfect curves of her figure. Shades of red flowed through her long, dark brown hair enhancing the green in her hazel colored eyes, and it made me think that maybe her name suited her after all.

I continued to eat my burger, and even though I wasn’t intentionally listening to their conversation, I overheard Hazel tell the kids to go upstairs and start their homework. Once they’d left, she started gathering up their dishes. Before she turned to go, I asked, “Your name Hazel?”

She glanced down at her name tag and mumbled, “Mmm-hmm.”

“So, you got a place upstairs, too.”

“I do,” she clipped.

Ignoring her obvious aggravation, I announced, “Looks like we’re going to be neighbors.”

She stopped and, after letting out a frustrated sigh, she answered, “Looks that way. And just so you know … the walls are thin. Please try to remember there are two kids living next door.”

I nodded and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Those your kids?”

Her eyebrows furrowed with a look of irritation as she answered, “No, Einstein. Those are
not
my kids.”

What the hell? I held my hands up as I shrugged. “My bad. Just asking. The little girl looks a lot like you, so I figured you were related.”

“The little girl … Cindy … is my
sister
, not my daughter,” she snapped, “and the boy David is my
brother
, not my son.”

She drew her words out slowly, making her point more smart-ass than I deemed necessary, and on top of that, she was lying. She didn’t even bat an eye when she said the boy’s name was David. I’d already heard his sister call him Charlie, so I knew right away she was hiding something.

I winked and said, “Got it. Thanks for clearing that up, doll.”

“Whatever,” she snarled and took the last of the dishes in her hands.

Hell, she was a spitfire, with her sharp temper and fiery tongue, but there was something more hidden behind that protective wall she’d put up. I knew I didn’t have time to get wrapped up in a woman like that, but I found myself glancing back over to the kitchen door, hoping that I might catch one more glimpse of her before I left. When she didn’t show, I dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table to cover my bill and tip and headed upstairs. I needed to get settled before my meeting with Gus in the morning.

When I got upstairs, it wasn’t anything fancy, but it was clean and the furniture was decent. It was on the small side, just two bedrooms, and as I walked through it, I wondered how my neighbor managed to find room for two teenage kids and herself. On my way downstairs, I walked by my neighbor’s door and heard the sound of a familiar video game roaring through the thin walls, making a smile spread across my face when I thought about Dusty playing the same game whenever he was at the clubhouse. Letting go of the memory, I went on down to my bike, and after I got my bags and map, I headed back upstairs. Once I had everything put away, I spread the large map across the kitchen table. I spent the next few hours plotting the mileage from each of our drop-off and pick-up locations along the route.

I’d just about finished logging all the information for Gus when my burner started buzzing. It was a message from Cotton.

 

Cotton:

You find the diner?

 

Me
:

Yeah. I’m good.

 

Cotton
:

That’s what I wanted to hear.

Report back to me as soon as you’re done with the meet.

 

Me
:

Will do.

 

Cotton:

Be careful.

 

Me:

Always.

 

Leaving the map spread out across the small kitchen table, I tossed my phone onto the counter and walked over to the sofa. I sat down on the soft leather cushions and reached for the TV remote. Leaning back and propping my feet up on the coffee table, I started flipping through the sports channels. I’d only been sitting there a few minutes when my eyelids grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep.

I’d been asleep for less than an hour when I heard a loud ruckus coming from next door. When I heard a woman’s screams, I shot up from the sofa and rushed out into the hall. The screams continued over and over again, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I was worried something was wrong, so I pounded on the door. Seconds later, the young girl from the diner opened the door with a startled look on her face.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Hazel screamed from the back of the apartment. “Get me a wrench or something!! Hurry!”

“Hey… umm … something’s wrong in the bathroom,” the girl explained. “Umm… David is trying to help her, but …”

“Mind if I have a look?” I asked.

“Yeah, but she’s gonna be really mad that I let you in,” she frowned.

“Let me worry about that,” I told her as I headed towards the bathroom.

When I walked into the small dilapidated bathroom, it took me a second to register what I was seeing. Between all the screaming and the water, it was fucking chaos. The showerhead had broken off from the wall and water was spewing all over the room. With one hand, Hazel had a bath towel covering the huge gaping hole in the wall while her hand continuously turned the faucet knob round and round in a failed attempt to turn off the water. Nothing she was doing was working, not even a little bit, and she was drenched from head to toe. She turned with her mouth open, ready to scream again, and a look of pure horror crossed her face when she noticed me standing in the doorway.

David came rushing up behind me with a wrench in his hand. I took it from him and said, “Thanks, buddy.”

I walked over to the tub and knelt by the faucet. After removing the cheap plastic covering, I used the wrench to twist the water off. As soon as the water stopped gushing from the wall, the room fell silent. Still kneeling down, I glanced up at her, but when I noticed her white t-shirt was completely soaked, I quickly turned away. The last thing I needed was her seeing the smile that inched across my face when I saw her perfect breasts beneath the wet fabric. Damn. Damn it all to hell. Seeing her standing there looking so vulnerable and downright beautiful stirred something inside of me that I hadn’t expected to feel.

“Exactly what are you doing here?” she sneered.

Throwing her attitude right back at her, I stood up and growled, “Doing whatever it takes to make you stop making so much damn racket. The walls are thin, remember? Some of us are actually trying to sleep around here.”

Her cheeks blushed red as she stumbled, “I’m … umm …”

I crossed my arms and, with a raised eyebrow, said, “This is where you say
thank you
.”

She cut her eyes at me and spat, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll come back after work tomorrow to fix the showerhead. Just leave it for now.”

“No. I’ll just tell Louise. She’ll get someone to—”

“I told you I’d fix it tomorrow,” I snapped as I started towards the door. “Don’t want to take a chance on someone screwing it up.” Before I left the room, I turned to her and said, “And just so we’re clear: you were right about the thin walls, and you scream like a dying hyena.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to blame the uncomfortable sofa for my insomnia, but I knew the lumpy cushions weren’t at fault … at least not this time. Every time I closed my eyes, he was there: my too-hot-for-his-own-good neighbor, the man of my dreams and my worst nightmares wrapped into one. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t get him out of my head. I should have been grateful that he’d come and saved us from a complete disaster, but I wasn’t. Instead, I was just plain mad. I couldn’t believe he just barged into my apartment looking all disheveled and sexy as hell while I looked like a total mess. I could feel the heat crawl up my face when I thought about that sexy little smirk that crossed his face when he glanced up at my wet chest. Jerk. Then to make matters even worse, he had the nerve to say that I sound like a dying hyena. I had never, nor would I ever, sound like a hyena—dying or otherwise. It was ludicrous, all of it. I would have eventually figured out how to turn the stupid water off. I was just flustered … and wet. I wasn’t thinking straight. I sure as hell didn’t need him coming in there making me feel like a complete pathetic moron, but he did.  

I was lying there still fuming when Hadley walked into the living room. She came over to the edge of the sofa. “Can I lie down with you for a little while?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” I pulled back the covers and made room for her next to me. Once she was settled, I asked, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

BOOK: Clutch: Satan's Fury MC
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