BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (32 page)

BOOK: BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset)
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“Itch.”

“You’ll get used to it.” 

“I’m amazed he can speak.  I thought the child somewhat of a mute.”  Angela said. 

Sinclair shrugged.  “Maybe he was.  Maybe he temporarily lost some of his speech after…well after what happened to him.”

“He might have useful information if you can get it from him, Sinclair.” 

“I can try, but not until he feels more secure.”

“He seems pretty damn secure with you.”  Niall grumbled. 

Sinclair shot him a dark look, but it was Angela who responded. 

“Jealous of a little boy, Niall?”  She clucked her tongue.  “That’s a little extreme.”  Her eyes shone with a teasing light.

“I’m not…”

Sinclair moved past them to head to the shoe aisle.  “Just shut up!” 

 

Gabriel hopped all the way back to the car, his happy hooting had returned as he watched the sides of his shoes light up red with every step or hop. 

“I didn’t know they still made these.”  Sinclair smiled.  “I’m glad we found them.”

“Oh yeah, they’re great.”  Niall mumbled. 

Sinclair whirled on him.  “What’s your problem?”

His eyes widened.  “Me?  I don’t have a problem!”

“Right.”  Sinclair said and walked ahead of them. 

Angela touched Niall’s arm and forced him to hang back even further.  “You’re growing on me a bit devil, so allow me to give you a little advice.” 

Niall stared at her without expression. 

“Take this evening off.  Take tomorrow too for that matter.” 

“There’s not time.” 

“There’s plenty of time.  I’ll have some…people out looking for Joseph.  You love this girl.  I can see that.  A fool can see it.  You need to woo her back.” 

Niall shook his head.  “You think I can do that in a day?”

Angela thinned her lips.  “Perhaps; perhaps not, but you need to
try
.”

“What do you want out of this, Angela?  I know you want something.” 

“I want to work with Sinclair.  She has gifts.  She has untouched potential, and I haven’t even scratched the surface.” 

Niall’s throat went dry.  He didn’t want to think of what all of it could mean for Sinclair’s future.  For
their
future if she would allow them to have one.  He nodded slowly. 

“Alright.  Keep your smoke spies away.”  He said, and began walking away. 

Angela smiled and waved to Sinclair before turning to her own car with a satisfied twist to her lips. 

Sinclair eyed Niall suspiciously as he pulled the car keys from his pocket.  He unlocked the car and threw his own bag of shoes and jeans in the backseat. 

“What was all of that about?”

“Angela wants us to take the rest of the evening and tomorrow off.  She’s going to put some people out to look for Joseph.”

“Good.  Gabriel and I need the rest.”  She said, and buckled the humming little boy in.  When she stood to push the passenger seat back, her eyes met Niall’s.  “What?  Why do you look at me like that?”

The sadness that was on Niall was suddenly crushing.  If only Carla and the boy hadn’t shown up at the hotel when they had, he could have told her.  At least she would have known what he was before the shock of seeing it firsthand. 

“I wanted to tell you this morning when we watched the sun rise.  What I am, that is.  I was about to when Carla came.”

Sinclair forced her mind back to what felt like the million hours ago of that morning.  She did remember saying to him that he looked like he wanted to say something to her.  Maybe he was telling the truth.  Maybe he really had wanted to tell her right then.  But she doubted it. 

Niall drummed his thumb on the roof of the car.  “I know you think I’m lying.  I know you think I’m lying about everything.” 

Sinclair’s cheeks felt hot.  Maybe he could read minds too. 

“I’m going to prove you wrong, Sinclair.  I’m not Joseph Overman.  I’m not any other man.  I’m just me.”  A breeze ruffled his short black hair and Sinclair could see the first stars of the evening appearing in the sky.  The evening was upon them.  They were in the gloaming and anything could happen.  When she was a little girl it was her favorite time of day.  A time for fairies and magic.  She was staring directly at a magical creature. 

“We’ll talk at the hotel, Niall.” 

A shudder of relief ran down Niall’s spine. 

“HAMBURGER!”  Came in a sudden burst from the backseat.  How could they do anything but laugh?  

 

 

Joseph Overman was running for his life.  It was a certain feeling, one that left no room for argument.  This was no longer about freedom, or freedom to do as he pleased; this was a total battle for his very existence. 

His current woman was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her dark skin actually paled at the knuckles.  Her braids moved like snakes as she mumbled under her breath and angled her head back and forth.  The protective prayers wouldn’t do them any good.  Joseph understood there was no real power in Voodoo.  Real power came from the mind and what a person truly believed was possible.  He believed in his mind.  He believed in the power of the stone. 

The exit for Bayou Beouf loomed ahead of them in the darkness.  Bayou Beouf was now void of his Grandmother.  A pang shot through his torso, making him bear down on himself.  Latasha looked at him uneasily, but said nothing. 

Joseph wished the pain he felt concerning his Grandmother was a real grief, the kind that a most people felt when a loved one was lost, but it wasn’t.  It was an inconvenience he would have rather not dealt with. 

Damn shifter
!  He thought miserably.  Seeing the man who had toted Sinclair all over New Orleans looking for him turn into a Tiger right before his eyes was at the very least a shock.  Had Sinclair known?  If she had, she was worth more than he had originally thought.  It takes a special person to accept such a thing.  Sinclair was something he would have to consider soon.  He glanced at Latasha’s moving lips.  She was beautiful and she certainly had the connections he needed, but she couldn’t stand tall under his requirements.  The superstitions of her people made it too hard.  She relied on praying to a vast array of saints and gods rather than attempting to harness power on her own.  It was a weakness he wouldn’t tolerate for long. 

Joseph chewed on the edge of a finger, his mind racing through possibilities.  A shifter and a witch working together.  His small band of brothers would have a hard time dealing with that, especially if they already had help.  What
he
needed was help.  What he needed was an army.  Joseph sighed loudly.

“Pull over.”

“What for?”  Her words were tight and shot out like two tiny bullets. 

“Woman, don’t question me.”

Latasha took the car to the side of the road.  She stared straight ahead and resumed her former incantations. 

Joseph knew he was about to take the biggest risk of his life, but all good things came with heavy risk.  It was some kind of universal law.  Only those willing to sacrifice were rewarded.  In order to create his army and gain what he so desperately desired he would need a little help. 

Joseph looked to the sky as he placed the cell phone to his ear.  It rang several times before a deep voice answered. 

“Arrays residence.” 

 

Sinclair laid Gabriel on the couch of the hotel suite and pulled a blanket up around his chin.  She couldn’t help but to run a hand over his head as he looked up at her sleepily.  He was but a child, and she couldn’t bring herself to see him as a little monster. 

She straightened and barely offered Niall a glance as she went to the balcony to look out over their tiny stretch of Bourbon Street.  She knew Niall would silently follow her.  The sleeping arrangements were now strained.  Obviously, unless someone wanted the floor, the only option was for Niall and Sinclair to sleep in the only bed.  In light of what had happened between them, Sinclair was sure Niall would see it as no big deal; but it was a big deal.  She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. 

Bourbon Street was crawling with late night revelers.  The weekend was upon them and no one was in a hurry to go home.  The back drop of music, punctuated every so often by a raised voice or raucous laughter, didn’t irritate her; she was glad people were out having a good time and living their lives.  She on the other hand was caught up in a life and death game dealing in the highest level of the macabre. 

“You said we could talk.”  Niall’s voice drifted to her from the French doors, she felt them run over her like warm water.  She wanted to turn off the attraction to him.  She wanted to slap his face and tell him to get out of her life and never see her again.  It was an impossible wish.  The situation alone currently couldn’t warrant it, and even if he was gone from her life, would she ever be able to lose the feel of his hands on her skin or forget the way he had looked deeply into her eyes, like he could see her, truly see what was inside?  No, she didn’t think she could. 

“So I did.” 

“I need to know what you’re feeling.”

Sinclair turned slowly, her face a stone mask.  “What I’m feeling?”

Niall nodded. 

“I feel overwhelmed, Niall.  I feel raw and scared and out of touch with reality.  Do you know why I feel that way?”

Niall shook his head.

“Because I
am
out of touch with reality!”

“Sinclair…” 

“What?”  Her head pushed back from her shoulders as she lifted them, with hands palm up.  “I mean, a man who can turn into a tiger
after
being shot, and a world full of witches and Voodoo priests is no kind of reality I understand!  Not to mention a little boy who has had some kind of weirdness put on him by his own father, and now babbles and bites his finger tips and howls at the moon…my God, Niall, this stuff is
not
normal!  I’m going to need
years
of therapy when this is over!”  She pushed past him and marched through the sitting room to the bedroom.  She plopped down on the bed and scooted backwards until her back was against the wall.  She didn’t look at him as Niall came into the room. 

“I can explain a lot of this to you.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have it explained.  Maybe not knowing is better.”

Niall shook his head.  “No, Sinclair.  You need to understand.  You’re a part of this now, and you need to know.”  Niall licked his lips and glanced at her nervously.  “Your…abilities alone make you a part of this…world.” 

Sinclair leveled a scathing look at him.  “This world?  So, I can read minds a tiny bit and now I’m part of some kind of alternate universe?”

“It’s not alternate.  It’s part of this world, just hidden from the average person.”

Sinclair opened her mouth but shut it slowly. 
Average person

I have something that makes me special.  I have something that makes me ABOVE average
.  Sinclair stared at Niall for several long seconds. 

“What is it?”

A smile ghosted her lips.  “I’ve spent my whole life struggling to rise above average.  To be special.  Now I have something that makes me that way.”  Her eyes held a childlike wonder.  It was the closest thing to an epiphany that he had ever witnessed.   

Niall nodded his understanding.  The price of such a gift could be explained later.  Right now he would use her new revelation to make all the rest of what he had to say more palatable.

“Do you understand the full scope of what this…what our world holds?”

Sinclair barked a laugh.  “I don’t understand anything right now!”

Niall wiped his sweating palms along the tops of his thighs as he stood.  “Let’s start with me then.” 

Sinclair’s small smile faded.  “Alright.  Tell me how it’s possible.”

“I’m a shifter.  There’s many of us.  Many different types too.  The most common is a werewolf; although some can turn into true wolves.”

“Are there weretigers?”

“Yes, but obviously I’m a true shifter and become an actual tiger.” 

“What about other animals?”

“Larger animals, and as far as I know they must be mammals like us.”  He turned and looked at her.  “You know, warm blooded.  And it can’t be anything ridiculous like a house cat or a rodent.  It has to be larger like a bear or wolf.” 

“A tiger is pretty big, Niall.”

“So is a bear.”

Sinclair shrugged.  “True.” 

The main question on Niall’s mind rolled from his lips far more prematurely than he wanted.  His body leaned over her; another gesture he would have prevented, had he not been focused on only one concern. 

“Do I disgust you now, Sinclair?” 

Sinclair lifted her eyes to his.  She drew in a sharp breath when she saw the sudden and powerful sadness there.  There was something else: desperation. 

“At first I was frightened, then I was just angry, but I was never disgusted.”

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