Embracing Everly (12 page)

“I never want to see you again. You are a coward, a liar, a cheater and just a plain old asshole. You sent an innocent man to jail when you knew it was me.”

Charlie broke the small gap between us and tucked the strands of hair behind my ear. “See you around, babe.” He grinned and when he did, I got this horrible feeling in my gut that he was up to something, makes me wonder if I ever really knew him at all. Making me wonder if Mick was safe.

I DIDN’T CARE
when the sirens came down the street. I didn’t care when the blue lights shined on us or when they’d put us in cuffs. I was too busy watching her. It was like busting up his car brought out a little freedom in her eyes, a spark of hope, and a weight off of her shoulders even as she pleaded with them to leave me alone. I knew it was crazy as hell when I kissed her, but it was like someone threw gasoline on an already slow burning fire, igniting it. I could see it in her eyes like I always did. She couldn’t hide what was inside of her anymore. I couldn’t help myself with the way she was looking at me like she could do anything with me beside her. And I wanted to be that guy for once. That guy who she can lean on—depend on. And how she stood up to the asshole boyfriend of hers. When she smiled so brightly, laughing at what she’d accomplished, I realized she was doing something that hadn’t been done in a long time.

She was slowly stealing my heart.

And the kicker of it, I was letting her.

I had never been one for tears, but when Everly cried for me staying in jail, I knew I was a goner. I sat in the back of that cop car alone not telling him shit about who I was, just thinking about her. Us. Could I do it? Could I be enough for her? Could I give up all the loose chicks that came by the club? Could I even bring her into that lifestyle? It wasn’t a bad life style, but I didn’t want her kicking back with broads I nailed either. Could I be a one-woman man? Did I really want to? My mind was kicking and screaming no, but my heart was beating so fast and so hard when I thought about letting her slip through my fingers.

I was so far inside my head that it didn’t register that a man was tapping his pen on the table across from me until he cleared his throat. “Mick O’Malley, quite an interesting record you have here. Three misdemeanors as a juvenile, unconcealed weapon charges, assault two years ago and then nothing until now.”

“Can I have my one call?”

“Yeah, here you go.” He pushed his cell toward me.

I slid it back over to his side. “I’d rather use the pay phone.”

He regarded me and then nodded with a smug look like he was better than me. “You’ve got two minutes. Make them count.” He hauled me up by my elbow, shoving me toward the locked door. His nubby, fat finger punched in a code, and a second later he shoved me out of it.

“Two minutes,” he warned again, before striding over to a table with coffee and donuts. Could they get more cliché than that?

I exhaled loudly not wanting to make the call, but I had to. He was my only option. Dawson was going to be pissed as hell with me. My only saving grace was that I took the hit and she walked, which I’d like to think would gain me some points. I rang his cell instead of the club knowing he’d be more reachable. “Yo,” he answered.

“Dawson, it’s Mick. I need you to make a call for me.”

“What happened? Is Ev all right?”

“Yeah, she’s good. We got in a little trouble with the police on campus. I’ll explain later, but they carted my ass down to the local P.D. I need you to post bail or clear my name whatever it is you can do.”

“Fuck! Irish I told you to keep your nose clean.”

“It was me or her, man. I took the fall, now get me the fuck out.”

I heard a female voice asking him to come back to bed and Dawson’s pissed off sigh. “What damn department?”

“Charlotte.”

“Hang tight and I’ll make a few calls. And, Irish, I don’t like what I’m hearing. You’ll keep your distance from Everly if you know what’s good for you.”

Dawson knew someone from every state that could make things happen. Greasy politicians, seedy cops, presidents of motorcycle clubs to pimps who liked to tape things for blackmail. I knew I had some explaining to do, but I also knew he’d appreciate me taking the rap for his niece. His last quip was a kick straight to the balls. I wasn’t the type of guy to take the hit for just anyone. I did enough bad shit on my own. There was no need to add more to the list. The least he could do was say thank you.

After three hours of me climbing the walls to get out of there, the jockstrap of a cop came back and yelled out my name. Three hours was a long time to sit around and think of all the what-ifs in your life. And that’s what I did. I thought about my previous life, my new life, and a possible life with Everly if I had the cojones to defy Dawson and his stupid fucking rule. And as much as I came to want her, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to violate Dawson’s trust since he took me in and treated me like a son. The cop slipped in the key and unlocked the cage, but stopped me short before leaving. “I don’t know who got in those dirty pockets to walk without anything, but if I ever see you in here again, you ain’t going to be so lucky,” he gritted out before spitting on the ground next to my foot.
Classy!

A cab dropped me back to the apartment building just after four in the morning. I had asked her to wait up for me, but I couldn’t go to her now. Not with Dawson’s fresh warning pounding in my head. As quietly as possible I sneaked down the hallway toward my door to the apartment. I had to pass hers to get to mine and immediately heard the sound of her strumming her guitar and singing softly. Damn, I felt like such a dick. I shook my head, reminding myself that Everly was a job. A job I couldn’t fuck up, or they might throw me out on my ass. I had only been with them about a year, but they were all I had. And even though I wanted Everly in my bed, I couldn’t know or depend on how long she’d be there to make it worth it giving it a shot.

People thought we were this badass biker club since we all liked the freedom we felt when we rode, but we weren’t. We might do some shit like them, but we didn’t run drugs or weapons. We were legal bounty hunters, all licensed, but we did do the occasional side job when asked. We caught and occasionally hurt people who had it coming. I had no problem taking down a wife beater or a man who didn’t pay support for his or her own kid. It was one of the reasons why I joined up with them. They sometimes took the law into their own hands and dealt with the scumbags who needed to be taught a lesson, and that was the part I enjoyed. The part where I got some sort of revenge for the poor wife who couldn’t take his fists anymore, or the poor kid who had to endure watching it any longer. Dawson even did some pro bono depending on the situation, and I found that respectable and admirable compared to my old man’s lifestyle where nothing was honorable.

A let out a sigh of relief as I opened my door, only to feel the heat of her eyes on me just as I was sneaking inside. I turned on my heel, praying my gut was wrong and that she wasn’t behind me, but I heard the small gasp a second later.
“Shit!”

“I thought you told me to wait up for you? What are you doing?”

“Hey, umm, I’m just tired.” I scrubbed my hand through my hair while coming up with my next line. “I thought you’d be passed out or something.”

She smiled softly, her eyelids fluttering letting me glimpse that little sparkle she seemed to get whenever I was around. And, God how I loved that. “Of course I waited. It’s not every day a man goes to jail for you.”

“Look, Ev, it’s late as fuck and I’m tired. Can we talk tomorrow?” I had to say something. I couldn’t have her coming inside to find papers or pics of her about the job. And I most certainly couldn’t have her come inside because I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist those sweet little tempting lips of hers much longer now that I had a taste.

“I thought… I thought you had something important you wanted to tell me?” She took a tentative step closer. I could see it written all over her perfect, beautiful face what she wanted to hear, but was afraid to ask. What happened in that cop car? Did you feel it too? What is the important thing you want to say to me? She’s waiting and I couldn’t tell her how I felt. How I wanted her even if it was just one time, one time to have someone so innocent and sweet wanting me back. I felt like we were on a damn merry go round the way we kept going in circles with one another.

I inched away as she inched closer. “It’s not important anymore. Listen, I got a ton of shit to do tomorrow, so I’ve got to hit the hay and get some sleep.” I slipped inside and closed the door, unable to look at the hurt and confusion on her face anymore. A quick peek out the peephole showed me she was out there staring at my door with confusion and sadness sketched across her face. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I hated myself for hurting a girl. I’d been on my own so long I forgot how it felt to consider someone else and their feelings.

The sun was barely up when my phone went off, waking me. I lifted my head off the pillow and saw the clock reading eight a.m., yanking my cell off the table, I answered. “What the fuck?”

“I’ll what the fuck you, Irish. I want answers, and I want them now.” I sat up, pin straight hearing Dawson’s voice shouting at me.

“Let me get some coffee and I’ll call you back.” I tried to bide some time to come up with something about last night.

“What, you can’t multi-task? Walk, talk and make your damn coffee at the same time?”

I yanked on the pair of jeans I left on the floor last night as I rested the cell on my shoulder. “He cheated, she got pissed cause she saw it all happen and busted up his car. I was just there for moral support. Are you happy?”

“Why in the hell were you there in the first place? Why the hell did you let her? You better not be fucking her,” he gritted through the phone, and I could almost see the veins popping out on his forehead like they always do when he gets angry.

I filled the pot with water and the coffee grounds and flicked the machine on. “I’m not fucking her. We’re just friends. It was the only way to keep on her.”

“You listen to me, Irish and listen good. That little girl is my key to getting back in Thomas’s good graces again. If you hurt one hair on her pretty head or that precious heart of hers, I will rip yours the fuck out and burn it.”

“Jesus Christ, Dawson, I said nothing is going on. She’s too young and naïve anyway. You know the kind of broads I lay. She’s nothing like them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” He paused for a second and I took that time to place a mug under the drip and let it fill. I was too damn tired to wait for the whole pot. “Anything else?” he asked.

“Nope, man. There’s nothing here but a bunch of punk ass college kids.”

“Fuzz and I have a job in Alabama that an old friend called in. If you can’t reach me, you get in touch with Hammer. Spidey and Billy won’t be back ‘til sometime next week. He knows you might call in, so he’ll answer no matter what.”

Hammer is one mean looking dude. I even flinched when we were introduced. He got his name because that was his weapon of choice in a fight. He was sick in the head if you asked me. I was not one to drag out the pain. I liked to get the job done, the least messy as possible and get the fuck out.

A soft rap on my door almost had me spilling my coffee. “Dawson, someone’s at the door, I gotta go. I’ll be in touch.” He had clicked off before I did. I knew in my gut that she was out there waiting for an explanation for last night. I thought about pretending I wasn’t in, but shit, I just went to bed four hours ago. Where else would I be?

Figuring I might as well get it over with, I opened the door. She was still in the same clothes as the night before. A pair of grey sweats and a yellow tank top with Eric Clapton written across her chest, leaving my head spinning, reminding me how I wanted to peel it off and place one of those perky tits in my mouth. “Hey, I thought maybe we could grab some coffee at the Loving Cup? I heard you were up so…” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Thin walls and all.”

I held up my mug. “Already got some.”

She bit down on her bottom lip like she always does, and her brows furrowed as she thought of something to say. She got this little crease on her forehead when she was thinking and I found that I liked it, which I hated, because it was cute as hell, reminding me how much of a turn on she was. “Can I come in then, maybe have one? Talk?” Her eyes scanned me from my head to my bare chest. She held her gaze, tilted her head a bit, narrowing her glance until I realized what had her momentarily intrigued.

“It’s a Celtic Cross.” I turned to the side so she could get a better view. I had it done when I was seventeen, and it took up the entire side of my ribs.

“It’s beautiful,” she remarked as her fingertips softly, slowly traced the lines. I wanted her to stop touching me so badly because I suddenly couldn’t breathe. Just her touch left my breath shallow. However, the small masochistic side of me wanted her to run her fingers lower and lower.

I jolted away fast knowing those little touches were about to set me off. She jumped back a hair. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have.”