Steel Justice (A Romantic Suspense) (11 page)

I sit down in a chair by the window and pull up the blinds to keep a close eye on the parking lot. “Since you’re the lawyer and the brains in the family, got any ideas how we can flush them out?”

“Sure, I have an idea,” he says slowly. “You’re probably not going to like it.”

“Spit it out. Let’s hear it.” I already have a clue where this is going.

“We use your girl as bait to lure them out into the open again.”

“No,” I say curtly. “You’re right, I don’t like it. Not one damn bit.”

Flint holds up his hand. “Hear me out, okay? We wouldn’t be putting her in any danger. Well, at least not intentionally. Trish needs to agree to be part of the plan for it to work smoothly.”

“And what exactly would this plan be?”

“First, she would have to call or text her brother and create a believable excuse to set up a meeting. Then, we’ll put a tail on him after the meet up is over. He’s our best link to Big Roy and the rest of the Liberators.”

“No fucking way.”

“Jesse...”

“Don’t start with me, Flint. I’m not asking Trish to do this. You didn’t see the two of them together. Her brother is mean as a rattlesnake and plenty capable of hurting her. He doesn’t give a shit about his sister. I don’t want her anywhere near him.”

“What’s their story?”

“I don’t really know all the details yet. He roughed her up in the parking lot of the bar and left bruises on her arm before that. She hasn’t told me what the extent of his abuse is or if he’s done anything worse. Psychologically, he has some kind of weird hold on her. It’s not safe for her to be with him. Especially now that she’s hanging with us. There’s no telling what he might do.”

Flint blows out a long breath. “I figured you might feel this way. There’s always Plan B then.”

I lift my eyebrows at him. “Which is?”

“We go ahead with the same plan without her knowing she’s part of it.”

“And how do you propose we do that? Wouldn’t she need to be the one to contact her brother?”

Flint downs the last of his coffee and pours another cup. “Not if you can secretly grab her cell phone and do it instead. Send him a text from her phone asking to meet him at the bar and then delete it.”

“Aww...shit. This plan sucks. You graduate from law school and this is the best you can come up with?”

I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. If I do this, Trish is going to be so pissed at me.

“Even if I delete the text, won’t Trish see his response to it?”

Flint hesitates and leans forward to explain. “See, this is where it gets a little tricky and complicated. You need to steal her phone and not give it back. Ever.”

“Steal my girl’s phone? Boy, you’re full of shit ideas this morning, aren’t you? Are you still drunk? What if she needs to call me in an emergency and I have her damn phone in my pocket? What good will that do?”

“I’ve got you covered there too,” Flint says. “A lawyer is always thinking ahead. I’ll pick up a couple of prepaid burner phones for you at the drugstore. You should keep one of those activated and ready to hand over to her when she realizes her phone is...missing in action.”

“I still don’t like it. She’ll suspect something is up. She’s not dumb.”

“Did I say she was?” he asks. “You’re already making this way too personal, and it isn’t like you. We’ve been chasing after the Liberators for months and you’re going to let it all go down the drain for a girl you just met? Quit thinking with your damn dick and get onboard with the plan.”

“When have you ever known me to put a girl before the club?”

“There’s a first time for everything. How many chances do you think we’re going to get to nail the Liberators? We need to finish this. It hasn’t been so long ago that you and I stood up in front of the crew and promised them we would do just that. Here is our opportunity and we have to take it. Trust me, the end justifies the means in this case.”

He’s right. I’m letting my feelings for Trish corrode my judgment. Exactly what I swore to myself I wouldn’t do.

“Plan B it is then,” I say, standing up. “I’ll find a way to grab her phone today. When should I try to set up the meet?”

“Tonight,” he replies without hesitation. “After the bar closes. No need to drag this shit out any longer than necessary.”

“I agree. Wouldn’t it be terrific to never have to think about those bastard Liberators again? Tonight it is then.”

***

T
rish is already awake and dressed when I return to the room. I’m disappointed since I was hoping to slide back under the sheets and wake her up slowly with my tongue.

Now that we have a plan, I realize my time with her is limited. Something tells me to make the best of every second. Once she finds out we’re using her and her brother as bait, she is going to be furious with me.

I slip up behind her at the mirror and bend down to nuzzle the soft nape of her neck.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist and inhaling her sweet scent.

She leans back into me and smiles at my reflection. “You’re up early. I woke up and you were already gone.”

“Did you miss me?” I tease.

She gives me a shy smile. “Maybe a little.”

“I promise to make it up to you later tonight if you’ll let me,” I say. “There are so many things I want to do to you. Just thinking about it is making my dick hard. But first things first. Let’s talk about breakfast. Are you hungry? When was the last time you had anything to eat?”

She puts her hairbrush down to think. “I really don’t remember. Lunch yesterday, maybe. Now that you mention it, I’m starving.”

“Are you up for a ride? I thought we could grab a quick breakfast then take a drive today along the coastal highway. Get away from all the bikers for a few hours. It’s a nice ride and I think you’ll like it.”

“Actually, I would love it. Can you get me back in time for work? I don’t want to piss Roger off any more than I already have. I can’t afford to be fired.”

“I’ll deliver you to the bar with extra time to spare,” I promise.

“It’s a date then. I’m almost ready to go.”

She reaches for a ponytail holder and deftly pulls back her long hair. “Which direction are we riding? East or west?”

“I’ll let you pick. East will take us to Apalachicola Bay where we can order fresh oysters right out of the bay for lunch. Or we can go west through the pretty little town of Seaside and then on to Destin for fresh fish. Red snapper might be in season, or if not they always serve grouper.”

She wrinkles her nose and makes a face.

“Sorry, I’m not a fan of raw oysters. The texture grosses me out. I would love to ride through Seaside. I’ve seen photos of the town in magazines and it looks beautiful. Can we go west?”

“Anything you want,” I say. “Do you have any sunscreen?”

She nods.

“You had better slather it on thick. One of the worst sunburns I ever got was riding on my bike through Florida. Make sure you do your face, arms, and legs.”

She pulls out a tube of sunscreen from her bag.

“Here, let me do it,” I say.

I squirt a big dollop of sunscreen onto the palm of my hand and start rubbing the lotion on her arms. She winces when I accidentally touch the bruise on her upper arm. I frown and draw back my hand.

“Is this still sore?”

“Only when you touch it.”

“You want to tell me how it happened? You never did say.”

A sad look crosses her face. “Can we please not talk about my brother today? I want to forget about him for a while if I can. Let’s just go have a good time and pretend we’re normal people for a few hours.”

“Your wish is my command. There’s nothing I would like more.”

––––––––

T
he bustling town of Seaside is busier than I expected. It has been years since I’d ridden through the pastel-colored town, and it surprises me to see throngs of tourists filling the sidewalks and crosswalks.

Instead of bikers, most of the tourists are wealthy, sunburned families with children, all dragging umbrellas and towels from their rented houses over to the public beach. I don’t envy them since they look hot, tired, and cranky.

For some reason, they all seem to be irritated at me. After we receive several hateful glares, I realize the loud muffler on my motorcycle might have something to do with it.

Too bad.

They can just fucking deal.

“What do you think about Seaside?” I yell to Trish over my shoulder.

“I love it,” she says back. “The colors of the buildings are so pretty. A picture perfect town. I wonder what it would be like to live in a place like this.”

“Probably nice in the winter,” I reply. “The spring and summer months would be a bitch with all these tourists walking around. The locals must hate it.”

“I bet they like the money the tourists bring in.”

“You’ve got a point there.”

Trish spots an art festival going on in the village green space located in the middle of the town.

“Do we have time to stop and look around?” she asks. “I need to stretch my legs for a minute. They’re going numb.”

“Sure,” I say, glad for any opportunity to get to know her better.

The bike ride seemed like a good idea at first, but then I realized we weren’t getting much of a chance to talk. It’s hard to have a deep, meaningful conversation when every word has to be yelled to the person behind you.

After parking the bike, I take her hand in mine and we follow the other tourists to where the white tents for the art festival are set up. The area between the tents is congested with lots of people milling around.

When Trish’s purse bangs my side, I realize this might be the best opportunity to steal her cell phone without her noticing. I had been enjoying the day so much that I almost forgot my mission.

She slows down as we move past a booth selling handmade jewelry. I notice her eyes go to a pair of silver earrings. She reaches down to pick them up for a closer look then changes her mind.

“Do you like those?” I ask.

“They’re beautiful,” she says. “Unfortunately, with my current financial situation, I can’t afford to be looking at jewelry.”

Reaching for the earrings, I hold them up to her ear. “I think these earrings will look fantastic on you.” I lean down to whisper into her ear where the elderly lady working the booth can’t hear. “The earrings and nothing else.”

Trish ducks her head. I love her shyness, both inside the bed and out.

“We’ll take them,” I tell the clerk.

“Do you need a box?” the lady asks after I hand over the money.

I turn to Trish for her answer.

“No, if it’s okay, I’ll put them on now,” she says.

She deftly slips one earring on and then the other.

“How do they look?” she asks, smiling up at me as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Like we are a normal couple on vacation doing ordinary things; walking around an art festival and looking at jewelry. Buying drippy ice cream cones or strolling along the beach.

I look at her and for a moment, my heart actually hurts. She’s breathtakingly beautiful when she’s happy.

If only we had more time.

I know I could keep her happy if we had a real chance.

My mind turns to how much I hate the Liberators. If it’s not bad enough that they took important things from my past, now they’re taking away my future as well.

Gathering her close, I lean down and kiss her softly on the lips. The embarrassed clerk clears her throat and looks away.

“I think you’re the prettiest gal I’ve ever seen,” I say truthfully, brushing a wisp of hair back from her face that has sprung loose from the ponytail. “The earrings look absolutely stunning on you.”

While one hand presses against her back, the other slides into her open purse. In a split second, I palm her cell phone and slip it into my pocket.

I’m going straight to hell.

In my life, I’ve done plenty of bad things, some that I’ve regretted, and other worse things that I didn’t feel a tingle of remorse about.

Right now, stealing Trish’s cell phone when she’s looking up at me with those big innocent eyes is at the top of my list of things I’ll need to repent for some day at the pearly gates.

“Thank you so much for the earrings, Jesse,” she says, reaching up to touch my cheek. “I love them.”

I feel like a big stinking pile of dog shit.

––––––––

B
iking along the Florida Panhandle with Jesse is one of the best times I remember having in years. I’m feeling carefree, snuggled close behind him on the bike with the hot sun on my legs and the wind in my hair. The salty ocean air smells fresh and crisp. With every mile, the stress of the past few days melts away more and more.

Being on a bike is peaceful, and peace isn’t something I’ve had much of in my life, especially lately. I can understand why bikers love riding so much.

I wrap my arms tighter around Jesse’s waist. He turns slightly and grins back at me. I long to run my hands up and down the hard abs on his chest to feel the smooth muscles I know are there. I resist the urge because I’m afraid he’ll let go of the handlebars or be so distracted that he’ll run off the road. At the speed we’re going, a wreck would be disastrous, if not fatal. 

I reach up to touch the earrings to make sure they’re still on my ears. His sweet, impulsive gesture to buy them for me brought tears to my eyes, but I didn’t let him see. I made sure to blink the tears back before he noticed.

He would probably think I was being silly or overly sentimental. Emotions that most men can’t tolerate in women, especially a tough biker like Jesse. I’m too embarrassed to tell him that the earrings were the first gift a man has ever bought me. I’ll keep that little secret to myself. 

Taking care of an addict mother most of my life didn’t leave me much free time for fun or dating. After Ty left home, my mom always needed me for something: putting her to bed when she was wasted, or staying up all night babysitting her because I was afraid she would accidentally set the house on fire if I fell asleep.

Many mornings I dragged myself to high school with little to no sleep the night before. If my teachers suspected anything was wrong with my home life, they never said a word about it.