Rising Heat (14 page)

My stomach clenched. Had Ash been lying to me? Was he involved in something? I didn’t see any exchange of anything — no suspicious baggies filled with white powder. No money passing hands. But this was more than just a coincidence. How had the bikers known Ash was up here?

After a couple of tenser seconds, the bikes revved back to life. One by one the bikers rode past Ash, then past me before they used the turnout to go back the way they had come. Each one of the bikers stared at me. Some made suggestive gestures. Others just stared, their eyes devoid of emotion. By the time they all disappeared around the mountainside, I’d sank down onto the picnic bench, trembling all over. I felt sick. Ash remained where he was, watching as the last of the bikers cruised around the turn and disappeared.

Ash returned to the picnic bench. He was scowling. I stared up at him, my mind racing. “Were those members of your gang?”

He hesitated but then nodded. “Were being the operative word.”

“What did they want? How did they know to find you here?”

He shrugged. “I come up here all the time. They know that.”

He didn’t answer the other question. Now it was my turn to scowl. My emotions roiling between fear and curiosity, I demanded answers. “Ash, you can either start answering my questions and being honest with me, or you can take me back home right now.”

He said nothing.

“How can you expect me not to be curious? And frightened. Those guys… they came up here to intimidate you, didn’t they?”

“I don’t want to say too much, Kathy,” he said, turning to me. “They’re just… they’re annoyed that I left the gang.”

“Why? Why should they care?”

He made a face. “They don’t, not really.”

I didn’t want to sound like a harpy, but dammit, I needed some answers from the guy who nearly sucked my face off minutes before. I planted my hands on my hips. “Put yourself in my shoes, Ash. What would you be thinking? How would you feel?”

“That guy in the lead is Digger. He was just checking up on me.”

What kind of a stupid name was Digger? “And why would he?” I was growing more frightened. By his expression, I could tell Ash was a bit perturbed, but I wasn’t going to apologize. What was happening? What was Ash involved in? If he was involved in anything underhanded, I didn’t want anything to do with it, or him.

He scrubbed his face with his hand as he sat down on the bench across from me, folded his arms on the table, and looked out over the distance. I waited, but not patiently.

“Okay, ask me whatever you want. I’ll answer honestly.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, not exactly. They’re just pissed that we — that I’m leaving the gang.”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t act like he was lying. In fact, he looked me straight in the eyes. Did I believe him?

He leaned back, glanced down at his hands, then out into the distance toward the plains. Finally, he answered. “I told you I used to be part of a motorcycle gang. That gang. The Outlaw Biker Boys. I was being honest about that. But I was with them for more than a couple of years. In fact, I’ve been somewhat of a misfit, bumming around for much of the past decade.”

If it was physically possible, I thought my eyes would pop out of my head. How in the hell could he afford—

“I don’t have to tell you that this conversation is just between you and me.” He stared at me, his gaze serious. “You don’t know anything about it, got it?”

I nodded. “That trio of riders that I saw outside of the mall when I left work on Saturday. Were they following me?”

“I doubt it,” he said. “Some of the guys, they just come around. You could’ve just been a coincidence.”

“And you believe that?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “I don’t know much about gang life, whether it’s street gangs or motorcycle gangs, or any other kind of gangs. But I do know that most gang members don’t take kindly to people leaving. Are you in danger? Did they come up here to threaten you?”

“Again, I doubt it,” he said. “I wasn’t anywhere near the core of the group. I hung around the fringes.”

“But enough to know what’s going on.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t take much to put two and two together. “They think you know something. Something that could get them in trouble. Arrested.”

He offered one of his typical half shrugs, and I wanted to shake him. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this one bit. This could be dangerous, being with him, and I didn’t believe the “coincidence” shit for a second.

“Will I be in danger hanging around you?”

His eyes whipped to mine. “I won’t let anything happen—”

“That wasn’t my question, Ash.”

“Look, Kathy, I know enough about their plans and actions to know I don’t want to be involved.”

“What type of actions?” I pressed.

“Bad shit. Mexican cartel shit. Shit you don’t need in your head.”

I gasped. That was bad. Really bad. Coming from San Diego, I was more than familiar with criminal activities involving the cartels. Drug trafficking. Human trafficking. Murder.

“I swear to you, I’ve never been involved with them to that degree. Wouldn’t be involved.”

He certainly seemed sincere, but I couldn’t stop the surge of alarm that ran through me like an electrical shock. And just the fact that he hung around with such people didn’t make me feel very comfortable, or safe. I suddenly regretted this. All of it. Allowing him to convince — no, threaten — me to bring the fish tank to his house. Having a cup of coffee with him. Being out here in the middle of nowhere with him today. I shifted my position, crossing my arms over my chest. He looked at me. Could he tell what I was thinking?

“I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, and I understand what you might be thinking, but I’m telling you, I’m not like that. I didn’t join the gang because I wanted to be a criminal.”

“Then why did you?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Life is complicated, Ash. Tell me.”

For several moments, he was quiet, as if he was trying to put his thoughts together. Deciding whether I was worth convincing.

“It sounds jack shit stupid now, but back when I joined, it seemed like quite a rational thing to do. I’m a misfit. I always have been. And what is a gang but a bunch of disgruntled misfits, all looking for the same thing?”

“And what is that?”

“To fit in.”

“And did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Fit in.”

I saw a flash of emotion cross his face. I couldn’t quite fathom it. Disappointment? I waited, my foot jiggling nervously on the dirt underneath the table. As I stared at him, I realized something else. Stupid me. I liked this guy, really I did. But I also didn’t need to borrow trouble. Certainly not this kind of trouble. I was barely keeping my head above water as it was. I wasn’t trying to be selfish, but I needed to look after myself first.

“Not really,” he finally said. “I can’t explain it. Let me ask you a question though. Do you come from a good family?”

The sun felt warm on my back. The breeze tugged at my hair, bringing with it the scent of trees and wildflowers. It was lovely up here. I enjoyed just being outside, away from the pet shop, the store, school, and my apartment. It was nice to get out of town and do something different. I was grateful to Ash for bringing me here, but at the same time, I was more than a bit perturbed. It was my own fault, wasn’t it? I should’ve known. My instincts had been niggling at the base of my brain, but I had let his good looks, his charm, and that friggin’ grin of his override my better senses.

He was waiting for my answer. How to respond? “I was brought up by two parents if that’s what you mean.” I fingered a loose splinter in the picnic table. His hands were mere inches from mine. Strong. Thick veins crawling over the backs of them and disappearing up the length of his forearm. I felt a clench in my groin. Shit. “They’re both still alive and living in San Diego.”

“So you were loved, right?”

“Well, of course I was,” I replied. “Weren’t you?”

“I was,” he shrugged. “But I always felt that I was different from my family. My expectations weren’t their expectations. I always felt like I was on the outside looking in.”

“You even felt that way with your twin sister?”

He made a face. “People seem to think just because we shared a womb that we had to think alike. We don’t. I don’t dislike my twin, far from it. She always tried to keep me out of trouble, sometimes even lied to get me
out
of trouble. And then after…” He blew out a breath and looked toward the trees. “Well, there was an accident, and after that Lacey, my twin, was the only one who really tried to understand, but my parents…” My heart squeezed at the look of pain that flashed across his face. “Well, let’s just say we were already distant. It just got worse after that.”

An accident. One he obviously didn’t want to talk about. I wish he hadn’t brought it up. Now my curiosity was raging. I tried to ignore it. “You’re telling me you left home because you didn’t feel loved? That you were
misunderstood?
Welcome to just about every teenager’s life.”

“It wasn’t just teenaged angst or rebellion, Kathy. My father and I, we constantly butted heads. My mom, well, let’s just say that she was distant. The worse things got at home, the more I felt that my very presence was making things harder for my twin. I figured if I left, the tension would ease and things would get better.”

“Did they?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

My eyes bugged again. “Are you telling me you haven’t talked to anyone in your family in what,
ten
years?”

He thought about it. “After I left, I would make the ubiquitous calls. You know, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas. After the first couple of years, it seemed like my parents were never home and I found myself leaving messages on the machine.”

“That’s sad.” I meant it. I might not have the greatest relationship with my parents, but I didn’t feel that they wanted me out of their life. It made me more curious about the accident he alluded to. Was it so bad that the family had fallen apart, would have prompted them to turn their backs on him?

“I talked to Lacey a couple of months ago. She’s getting married next year.”

“It’s also sad that you and your twin have grown distant. I’d always wished that I had a brother or sister.”

“I had a younger sister too.”

Had.
I picked up on the past tense immediately. Oh my God. That was the accident he alluded to? The accident that had changed the core dynamic of his family? The accident that caused a tenuous relationship to grow even rockier?

I watched his face carefully, saw the barely disguised pain still sitting on his beautiful features. Even though my curiosity was raging, I steered him away from that subject.

“So anyway, you haven’t been back home in ten years? You’ve just been what, bumming around? If you don’t mind my asking, doesn’t get it a little tiresome after a while?” I paused and then rushed forward before he could answer. “I’m sorry, I’m being too nosy. I just can’t imagine having that much down time. I guess I’ve just been so busy for so long that I don’t even know what I would do if I had even a week or two off. The thought of bumming around for years?” I offered a soft laugh.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he agreed. “In the beginning, I felt like Jack Kerouac. Not a care in the world. No one to answer to. No one telling me what to do or when to do it. The ultimate rebellion. But after a while, it just got…”

“Lonely?”

He frowned. “I’ve never felt lonely, but I was alone. To me, there’s a difference. So when I got here, to Denver, I gravitated to places where other bikers congregated. I guess from there, it’s not hard to figure out why I ended up joining the Outlaws.”

I thought about that. I didn’t necessarily like to be alone, but I wasn’t lonely per se either. Yes, there are times when I craved friendship, human companionship — no pressures of course — but I was busy and didn’t think about being alone too often. If I didn’t have a job, it probably would’ve affected me more. But to join a
gang?
With the name
Outlaw?
Maybe it was all about testosterone, because frankly, it didn’t compute for me. “I guess I never really thought of the reasons why people would join a gang,” I confessed. “I suppose it’s not much different from joining a clique in high school.” He leaned back and grinned. Damn that grin. I had to pull my gaze away.

“And did you belong to a clique in high school?”

I laughed. “Not even close. I was kind of in the middle. You know, the kid that didn’t smoke, drink, or cause problems, but I wasn’t one of the “in” crowd either. I wasn’t a cheerleader. I wasn’t on the debate team. I wasn’t on student council. You know the drill. I was in the middle. I went to school, studied, and then went home.”

He stared at me for several moments, assessing. I began to fidget under his gaze.

“So why did you leave California and come out to Colorado all by yourself?”

I thought about that. “I guess maybe for some of the same reasons you left home. Independence. To make my own way. I wanted to get away from my parents, at least for a little while.”

“Why?”

How to explain without seeming like a horrid daughter? Well, I guess if he could open up to me a little bit, I could open up to him a little bit. If he didn’t like it, he wouldn’t ask me out again. And that thought brought me to another. Did I want him to? I focused on his question.

“My dad is an alcoholic. He’s not a mean drunk, yet. But I found myself getting caught up in all his drama. Trying to be the peacemaker between him and my mom. And my mom… let’s just say that in trying to deal with his drinking, she’d become a little well, a
lot
eccentric.” I shook my head. “I just needed to get away from it. Does that make me a bad daughter?”

“It makes you smart,” he said. “Not that I’m against family because I’m not. It’s just that sometimes, families aren’t as close as you want them to be. Just because your dad is your father doesn’t mean you have to like who he is or what he does. The same goes for your mom. Do you talk to them frequently?”

I nodded. “Just about every weekend. I think it was a good idea for me to leave. Without me there to referee and keep the peace, they’re forced to hash out some of their issues. Then again, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they someday decide to divorce.”