Kincaid: Cerberus Mc Book 1 (5 page)

“Grabbed a couple of cheeseburgers and fries,” Kid says pointing at brown paper bag sitting on the center console. “I didn’t know what you’d want to drink, so I just got bottled water.”

“Thank you.”

I take the bottle of water closest to me in the cup holder and take a small sip. “I’m not really hungry, but I appreciate the thought.”

I couldn’t eat right now if someone was forcing me. My stomach is in knots as my head tries to evaluate my life as a whole. I close my eyes, thankful not to be bumping along on the back of a motorcycle, and lean my head against the window. I stayed awake as long as I possibly could last night, which means I haven’t had but a few hours of sleep. Exhaustion takes me under quickly.

***

I open my eyes suddenly when I hear a light tapping near my head. Looking out the window, I see Diego standing on the other side of the window. It does not go unnoticed just how ruggedly handsome he is. His lips curving up into a smile when my eyes meet his elicits the same reaction from my mouth.

He points to the door handle, warning me that he’s going to open the door. I pull my body away from it. I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep, but my body obviously needed the rest if I slept sitting up in a moving vehicle for Lord knows how long.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says as soon as the door is open.

I stretch in the seat with my hands over my head but wince when the tightness in my ribs reminds me of my injury. I grab my purse off of the floorboard and fish out some Tylenol, taking two and wishing it were something stronger.

Diego waits patiently in the doorway. A quick glance backward tells me that Kid has already gotten out of the van, another thing I slept through apparently.

I give Diego a questioning look. “Are we there?”

He angles his head across the parking lot, and I see a small Mexican café. “The guys are already inside. Kid said you didn’t eat anything. You must be starving.” He reaches his hand in to help me out of the van. Even though I’m perfectly capable of getting out myself, I take his hand. “They have an awesome taco bar.”

He closes the door behind me, and we make our way to the front of the restaurant. He doesn’t pull his hand from mine and for some reason, I leave them clasped. His presence is comforting. He has a protective atmosphere around him that I can literally feel when I’m near him. I’m cautious, but that still doesn’t abate the urge I have to stand even closer to him as we sit down in a booth and place our order.

The café is tiny and well kept, and even though it’s crowded we managed to get a booth to ourselves. I look deeper into the seating area; I can see the other three guys sitting together with plates already piled high with tacos. I shoot a weak smile in their direction until Wrench notices me looking and creepily licks his lips. Noticing my scrunched up face, Diego looks across the room and narrows his own eyes. It’s clear even he doesn’t like the guy. It reminds me to stay clear of him. Wrench seems dangerous, and my skin crawls when he’s near.

We settle in at a table away from the other group of guys. The waitress is at our table immediately, taking our drink and food order. Although Diego recommended the taco bar, we both order food that keeps us at the table rather than having to get up to make tacos.

“What are the plans when we get back to your place?” I realized before falling asleep on the ride over that I’d agreed to go to New Mexico but have no idea what happens once we get there.

“I’ll get you settled at the clubhouse. You’ll have a room there.” He takes a sip of the soda the waitress brought and placed in front of him.

“You live at a clubhouse?”

His smile is from ear to ear. His genuine happiness and handsome face makes me squirm slightly in my seat.

“We have a building where members meet, hang out, and socialize.”

“For the biker gang?” I fiddle with the napkin in front of me.

“Club,” he says. I raise my eyes and an eyebrow at him, clearly not able to distinguish the difference. “It’s a club, Emmalyn. We’re not criminals. Everyone in the club is former military. We’ve all served our country, and even after discharging we continue to serve our country. We just do it differently now.”

He doesn’t expound on his last statement, so I decide to push a bit.

“So that’s not guns and drugs in the duffle bags in the van?”

His light laugh is rich and sultry, gaining the attention of several people in the restaurant.

“No drugs, Em. I promise.” No drugs. That still implies that there are guns. I lower my attention back to the napkin my hands are unconsciously shredding.

“Em?” I cut my eyes back to his. “We were in Denver helping the police find my cousin’s kidnapped girlfriend. We specialize in recon and recovery; we aren’t running guns. The weapons in the back of that van are being transported one hundred percent legally. You have nothing to worry about.” He cuts his eyes at the table with the other guys at it. “Well, stay away from Wrench.”

I nod my head in understanding as the waitress sets our food on the table in front of us.

“You live at the clubhouse?” I ask as I pick up my fork.

“I stay there sometimes, but I have a house in town.”

I take a bite of food as he continues.

“I’m going to be there alone with…” I swallow roughly and cut my eyes at the table with the other bikers. “You’re not going to be there?”

He gives me what I’m certain he knows is a panty-melting smile. It’s a knowing smile, a smile that says he’s well aware I want him there. He has it all wrong because I need him there to feel safe.

“I’ll stay there as long as you’re there, Em.” His voice is reassuring with only a hint of the seduction left from his smile just a second ago. “I have no clue what type of man your husband is, but I’m not taking any chances. The safest place in the world you can be is at that club.” I watch his lips as he wipes his mouth with his napkin. “My brothers will protect you with their life.”

I smile at him. “You have brothers there?” I wonder if they look as good as he does.

“The club is like a family. I do have a brother; he’s older.” My smile grows, and he raises an eyebrow at me, but he doesn’t call me out on my response to the brother news. “He’s still in active service and won’t be home for a couple of months, but the guys in the club are all like brothers to me. We’re a family.”

Family.

Such a simple word, but one that carries with it so much responsibility and support.

“Even Wrench?” I ask sarcastically.

“Well, Wrench is another story. I was very close to his younger brother Socket, but he didn’t make it back from his last tour.” He sits back further in the booth and clears his throat; the emotion obviously not something he’s comfortable with.

“Wrench and Socket. Brothers,” I say playfully. “Seriously?”

He smiles back at me. “They were mechanics.” He shrugs his shoulders. “It just fit.”

“And they call you Kincaid. Why?”

“I doodle.” He smirks at me, his chocolate brown eyes glistening.

“Doodle?” I ask with a laugh.

“I like to draw. The guys started calling me Kincaid as a joke.” He shrugs, “It stuck.”

I tilt my head in confusion.

“Thomas Kincaid was a painter. He usually did houses, cottages, and landscapes,” he explains. “The guys I went to boot camp with weren’t very original.”

The conversation continues easily during the meal until Diego excuses himself. The second he stands and walks toward the exit, Shadow takes his spot in the booth across from me. He doesn’t say anything he’s just there. Oddly, it’s comforting and not awkward at all.

“No, Doc,” I say into the phone. “Not even her. I want them all gone before we get there.”

“The boys you got with you aren’t going to be happy when they get here,” Doc says with a light laugh.

“They can go elsewhere. I want the clubhouse cleared. Members only. We’ll be rolling in about nine,” I tell him after a quick glance at the screen of my phone.

“Shadow said you were acting strange.” There is no inflection in his voice.

“Y’all need to quit gossiping like fucking teenage girls. Do you think you can handle it or do I need to talk to Itchy about it?” I hear him huff. Itchy is one of the newest, most ambitious members. I’m not close to him, but I appreciate his eagerness to help when other members ask. Doc is older, and although I’d trust him with every secret I’ve ever had, he’s not the first one to raise his hand when it comes to menial tasks.

“Asshole,” he spits in the phone and hangs up. I laugh because I know he’s going to take care of everything I asked.

I can’t hide the club girls from her. Hell, they’ll probably be there when she wakes up in the morning, but I don’t want her to be hit in the face with them the minute she steps foot into the clubhouse. The thought about the club girls reminds me immediately, with a sharp ache in my balls, that my plans for release were interrupted last night by Emmalyn’s asshole husband. Not that I regret the situation I’m in right now. I’d be lying if I said I was only interested in her safe escape from the asshole.

Unexplainably, I feel drawn to her. I don’t know if it’s her incredibly aware, blue eyes, the sway of her hips when she walks away, or the way my heart speeds up a bit when I hear her voice. All I know is the last time I got a rush of adrenaline like I do with her was years ago when I had my first enemy combatant in the crosshairs of my sniper rifle.

Then, the rush was from the possibility of loss of life, mine as well as the terrorists. Now? I’m afraid my reaction to her is much deadlier than even the most critical of missions the Marine’s ever sent me on.

***

I try to look at the clubhouse with new eyes as we approach, but I’m so tired I’m just glad to be back home. I head to the van to help the guys unload. Before I can make it over there, it looks like every single member of the club comes out to “help.” When, in fact, I know they’re being nosy and want to see who the woman is I’m bringing back. Shadow must have run his mouth to more than just Doc since last night.

I frown, but let them gather the duffle bags from the back. Nodding as several of the guys greet me on my way to the passenger seat of the van, I smile at their quick help and straining necks as I reach for the door handle. “Clear out,” I tell them before pulling her door open.

I watch as she sticks her head around the door frame just a few inches to see what is going on. “Who are all of those men?” I can hear the quiver in her voice even before I see her lips tremble.

“Club members,” I tell her holding out a hand for her to take. “You’re safe here, Em. You have nothing to worry about.” I turn my head to make sure the other guys have made themselves scarce.

I help her out of the van and keep a hold of her hand as we walk inside. The recreation area is empty and clean. I’m sure Doc put each and every man here tonight to work straightening it up. It’s never really messy but tends to get cluttered when the guys come in to hang out and begin to strip out of their gear.

As we make our way to the hall where the rooms are, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. Emmalyn notices it too and stiffens beside me. Doc approaches us with an ear to ear grin on his face and a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Doc, I’d like you to meet Emmalyn.” I sweep my hand toward the oldest member of the club. “Emmalyn, this is Doc. He keeps this entire organization running.”

I hear a feminine huff behind him and smile when Rose comes into view. Emmalyn reaches her hand out timidly and accepts Doc’s offer of a handshake.

“This beautiful woman behind him is his old lady, Rose.”

“His better half,” Rose says as she swats Em’s hand out of the way and wraps her arms around her for an impromptu hug.

“Hi,” Emmalyn says softly as Rose takes a small step backward, rewarding Em with the personal space she’d just invaded.

“How was the ride down?” Doc asks more to me than Em.

“Pretty smooth. The weather cooperated the whole time,” I tell him and take a closer step to the obviously nervous Emmalyn. “Let me show you your room,” I tell her and raise my eyebrows to Doc. The slight nod of his head tells me he was able to take care of everything I requested of him earlier. He hands me the key to her room as I walk past.

I guide her down the long hallway to the very end where the matching, side-by-side doors are. Using the key Doc just gave me I open the door to the left.

“I’m right beside you,” I say indicating the door to the right. I swing the door open and let her enter first.

I smile at the look on her face when her biker gang clubhouse assumptions are blown out of the water.

“It’s very,” she pauses to look around again. She turns to me and smiles. “It’s very nice, Diego.”

“It’s the Presidential Suite,” I tell her with seriousness. “This room is used when other MC Presidents come to visit.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Are you expecting any of them soon?”

“No, Em. This room is yours as long as you want it.”

She cuts her eyes to the door still unsure of her safety.

“Here,” I say and hold out the key in my hand. She takes it, and I pull my set of keys out of my pocket. “There are only two keys to this room, Em.” I begin to pull the club’s master key off of my keychain; I place it in her hand. “Now you have both.”