True North Page 4

  “Shit,” Givon growled. “Did she say who she is or where she’s from?”

  “No,” North answered. “There’re trust issues, obviously, but I did get her to sleep.”

  “Why does this man want her dead so badly?” Givon asked softly, his gaze fixed on her face.

  “Who, this asshole cop?”

  “No. Her abductor.”

  “I don’t care,” North answered just as softly. “When I find him, he’s a dead man.”

  Although Givon raised an eyebrow, he didn’t say a word, and North knew he understood. It was at times like this that they weren’t on opposite sides of the law and the star on his friend’s chest meant nothing.

  Chapter Five

  It took North a moment to figure out what had woken him up. His pocket vibrated with a text message causing him to sit up abruptly and pull his phone out. Two messages had come through from Draven. The first one asked if he was still at the hospital and the second was reminding him of church today.

  Absently he wiped the drool from his chin and blinked as he looked at Allis. She lay there smiling at him then reached up to smooth down his hair. He’d slept with his head on the edge of the hospital bed, so Lord only knew what he looked like. His lower back was killing him from hunching over all night.

  Givon was still sleeping and North winced at seeing his friend’s head tucked onto his chest. Giv was going to have one helluva of a neck kink. He rose and stretched, his back popping. Then he bent over and placed a tender kiss on Allis’s forehead. Her eyes widened and he had the insane urge to claim her lips next and kiss her until they were both breathless and squirming. He wondered if his thoughts reflected in his eyes because damned if it didn’t look like an answering passion flared to life in her dark gaze.

  Instead of caving in to his base desire, he swiped a finger down her cheek, memorizing the softness of her skin, before reluctantly backing away from her and leaving. Outside her door, he found Jack asleep in the waiting room and Nimrod flipping through a magazine. He nodded a greeting at the prospect and strode to the elevator, knowing that Allis would be watched well today.

  * * * *

  North strode forcefully into the chapel at the clubhouse, his slamming of the door ringing through the room and causing the seated members to stop talking. Each man watched him, waiting until he got the meeting under way.

  He sat in his seat at the head of the table. He’d slept poorly, so he wasn’t in the best of moods. “I’ve been told we don’t have enough to cover Nick’s portion of the medical bills. This isn’t the first time an issue tied to lack of funds has landed across this table, but now it’s crucial we come to a decision.”

  “Bryman Jay,” Pistol Pete said loudly. “He’s the only way this club survives right now because dues, rent and shop money ain’t cutting it.”

  “We’ve got bills to pay,” Skids said.

  “We’ve all got bills to pay but we’re trying to go legit,” Draven reminded him. “Getting in bed with meth scum isn’t a smart move.”

  “You got a better idea?” Pete asked. “Because I don’t. Maybe right now isn’t the time to think about being lawful with Nick fighting for his life. He’s not going to need the stress of trying to pay thousands of dollars in medical bills, plus physical therapy and God knows what else. And what happens when the next one of us drops? Most of us old timers have done our fair share of smoking and drinking, so don’t think none of us are immune from the Reaper.”

  “Nick’s not dead,” North muttered.

  “Exactly,” Pete retorted. “And his recuperation is going to be expensive. Tina’s counting on us to help with her husband.”

  “As well as we should,” Skids said. “The Wolves take care of the pack.”

  A round of agreement went across the table.

  “So that leads us back to Bryman Jay,” Pete said. “Listen, if there is another way, I’m open to suggestions. But our affiliates, although numerous, are far and scattered. And thanks to Merrie Walden’s praise for Gray Dog, our protection details have become the same.”

  North spared him a quick glance before addressing the rest of the table. “The vote to get into the laundering money business is on the table, as well as being a mule for Bryman Jay’s meth.”

  “Muling it out of Destiny has one benefit,” Skids murmured. “We can make sure the drugs stay out of our town.”

  “And it’s quick cash,” Pete added. “Cash that we need desperately right now.”

  “So you know what’s on the table. All in favor vote with a yes, if not then a no,” North said. “I vote no.”

  “No,” Draven said.

  “Yes,” Pete answered predictably and with his yes came four more, which passed the measure.

  North picked up his gavel.

  “Measure passed,” he said grimly and slammed the hammer down. He wasn’t happy at all. “Draven, will you call Bryman?”

  “Yep,” his VP answered, sounding equally unhappy.

  As the members filed out, Draven stayed seated, a clear indication that he wanted to discuss something private with him. Skids was the last one out the door and he closed it behind him, giving North and Draven privacy.

  “What’s going on at the hospital?” Draven asked, surprising North.

  North had thought this talk was going to be church related.

  “On the third floor,” Draven added.

  North placed his elbows on the table to lean over and caught a whiff of himself. God, he needed a shower. “Protection detail.”

  “For whom?”

  So he told the story of how he and Givon found the girl, chased the bad guy. How the bad guy ended up almost smothering her with a pillow. He couldn’t blame his VP for the incredulous look on his face. Hell, he lived it and it still sounded like a fucking Hollywood movie.

  “Who is this woman?” Draven demanded. “Is she, perchance, related to Merrie Walden?”

  North snorted in amusement. “No. She’s running from a crazy stalker cop.”

  “Or she’s running because she’s wanted by the law. Not that it matters,” Draven hastily added when North sent him a glacial glare. “So she runs from the cop only to be kidnapped by some pervert? Talk about bad luck.”

  “I’m going back there as soon as I shower and change my clothes,” North told him. “I also want to check on Nick.”

  “I’ll send one of the old ladies to stay with Tina,” Draven told him.

  “Thanks,” North said as he stood. “By the way, can we keep Allison between us?”

  “Sure,” Draven said. “But be careful, okay? You’re walking a tightrope by being so close to a cop. I mean, we all know you’re friends, but there’s only so much friendship the guys can take.”

  “Yep.” North walked away since the last thing he wanted to do was analyze his personal friendships. No way would his club understand his relationship with Givon. Patch had, of course. He’d known how deep their scars ran—how twisted his were. Only two people had known what he’d done to survive and one was now dead. If it hadn’t been for Givon Halloran and Old Patch, he’d have ended up in jail long ago—or worse, dead.

  Yes, there were rules to running an outlaw motorcycle gang and North upheld them, even when it broke the law or forced him to do shit that he hated. His pack might not understand how he could be friends with a cop, but his pack didn’t know half the shit that had happened twenty-four years ago either.

  Without saying another word to anyone, he headed back to his room to shower. Allis suddenly filled his head and he hoped she was doing okay, hoped the two nimrods hadn’t fucked up. He had a sudden, urgent need to see her and he tried not to think about what that could possibly mean because the last thing he wanted was to get involved with a woman. His type of life didn’t really lend itself to a relationship and Allis had been on the run from a man, which didn’t bode too well for trust. Once again, it made him humbly appreciate the trust she’d placed in him.

  Still, it wasn’t as though he could offer a w
oman anything. He lived at the clubhouse, for God’s sake, which had paper thin walls. Shit, most of his jerking off over the years had been while listening to his fellow Wolf brothers getting it on with some loud chick screaming out her pleasure. He’d never really given much thought to a future—to growing old—and whenever he did think about it, he was always focused on what he could do for the club to make it better.

  As he undressed and adjusted the temperature of the water, Allis flashed through his mind again. This time, he didn’t have the ability to push the thoughts away. He let them grow and take root because he’d never felt such a strong pull toward a woman before. Sure, he’d lusted after certain females, had bedded quite a few over the years. But none had ever given him that flash of heat that made his heart pound and his palms sweat. It left him breathless and terrified and yet he wanted to explore it further.

  As he stepped into the shower, the hot water beat down on him and he turned his back toward the spray, grabbing the soap to slick his hands before reaching down to grab his hard cock. Thoughts of Allis swirled through his brain—her luscious lips, her sultry eyes. Perhaps it was wrong of him to jerk off when she was lying in a hospital bed, put there after almost being murdered, but he was fast learning he was weak when it came to her.

  He pumped faster, squeezing from the base of his cock to the tip and back down again. He could practically hear her moans. He’d go down and push her thighs open to lick her slit and lap at her juices, make her scream with pleasure until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He’d sink into her heat, her wetness, riding her until he came, pouring himself endlessly inside her tight channel.

  The image was so real, so potent, that he cried out as his jizz shot out of his cock to splash against the tile. Euphoria glazed over his brain and he let go of the shower curtain as he fell to his knees.

  Chapter Six

  Givon rolled his neck, wincing when pain flared up from sleeping in a damn chair. He wasn’t twenty anymore, a fact that his body was shouting at him right now. He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Allis watching him. The second thing was that North was gone, leaving behind an empty chair on the other side of the bed.

  “He got a text message and left,” she said. “About fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I guess I should be going too.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the knot.

  “You both stayed with me—through the night.”

  “We wanted you to feel safe.”

  “Thank you.” She cocked her head. “I’ve been awake for an hour or so, studying both of you. How is it a cop and a biker seem to be working together?”

  “Actually, he’s my best friend. We’ve known each other our whole lives.”

  “And you’ve never had to arrest him?”

  Givon shrugged. “His club isn’t in my jurisdiction.”

  “Well, that’s convenient.”

  “The Red Wolves made peace with Destiny a long time ago,” Givon said. “Before I was sheriff. It’s a symbiotic relationship.”

  She was silent for a moment, questions in her dark gaze. He waited, knowing they were coming. People looked at North and saw tats, attitude and a motorcycle. They saw someone dangerous, yet they rarely chose to look under the surface.

  “So you’ve lived here all your life?”

  He blinked. That wasn’t the question he was expecting.

  “Yes. Except for the time I went away to college. I should be the one asking you questions.”

  Wariness instantly settled over her features. “Like what?”

  “North told me about your stalker.”

  Her chin quivered. “That’s not a question,” she whispered.

  “I’ll keep your last name as Smith in my reports,” he assured her. “But I have to know your real name, Allis, and I also have to know where you’re from so I can find the bastard who shot you.”

  “How does knowing where I’m from help you with that? I told you, I was working in Durango. My boss can verify everything.”

  “I believe you, honey. But there are some things I can’t let rest. What if he tracked you from Durango? What if he was part of your stalker’s plan?”

  Her eyes went wide and it was obvious that she hadn’t considered that.

  “I’ll have a harder time keeping you safe if I don’t have all the facts.”

  She reached out and he took her hand, holding it tightly. The stark fear that blanketed her face tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool to make sure nothing hurt her, but the logical side of his brain told him to be practical. Still, his heart leaped at her touch and that…that…thing happened again—the awareness. It was as if everything became a bit sharper, a bit brighter, all because she was near him, and damned if that didn’t scare him just a bit.

  “My name is Allison Evening,” she said. “I’m twenty-four and I’m from a small town near Black Mountain.”

  “Okay. That’s not too far away,” he said. “Why Durango?”

  “It’s as far as I got before my car died. I had to find work to build up some money. I was heading out of Wyoming.”

  “Well, I can do a little digging into your stalker,” he said. “Find out—”

  “You won’t be able to touch him,” she said softly.

  “Why not?”

  “Not only is he tribal police, but he’s chief of the town too. And he has his own club. They call themselves the Tribe.”

  “Shit,” he said with a frown. “I’ve heard of the Tribe.”

  “They believe they uphold Native beliefs, trying to keep the Shoshone blood strong and pure. Anyone not adhering to their policies are…ostracized. They hold no love for anyone not of Shoshone blood, including other Native American tribes.”

  This had just become a lot more complicated. At that moment, his cell phone rang, making him jump a little. He extracted his hand from hers, immediately shaking off the sense of loss from letting go, and answered the call. “Hello? Yes. Yes. Okay. I’m on my way.”

  When he hung up, he gave her an apologetic look. “I have to go. But there are two men outside ordered to guard you—one of mine and one of North’s. No one’s going to hurt you.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  He stood, leaned over then kissed her forehead before spinning and leaving the room. He tried very hard to ignore the tingle on his lips from the kiss.

  Allis watched him leave then took a shuddering breath. What the hell? She’d had two men kiss her on the forehead and both times, she wanted more. Was it a type of lingering hero worship? Both men had saved her from death, so it was normal to feel certain needy emotions. However, it didn’t explain why her heart raced and fire danced in her blood whenever both men were near.

  Well, whichever the case, it was best that she forget about them. As soon as she could move around without pain, she would run. Daniel Two Feathers wasn’t the type of man who gave up, and she’d hurt him too much for him to allow her to get away. Allis knew he’d never press charges against her, because what she did to him had almost unmanned him, but he’d want revenge.

  Oh, yes. He’d definitely want revenge.

  * * * *

  “Hey, Boss,” Charlie greeted.

  Givon stepped from his truck. It was still his personal vehicle since he hadn’t been home to swap out his sheriff’s truck—or shower. And he was beginning to feel very grimy.

  Charlie had called him to report a homicide and as soon as Givon saw the SUV, his stomach dropped. He recognized it from last night.

  “These are the tags you had me run last night,” Charlie reported needlessly.

  “I see that.” Givon stepped to the driver’s side where Allis’s would-be killer lay with a bullet buried in his temple. “You touch the crime scene?”

  “Nope,” Charlie said. “Truck is registered to a Michael Hiller, but I haven’t checked if this man’s ID confirms that’s who he is. I’ve also lifted a shit load of prints from the outside of this vehicle.”

  Givon rai
sed his phone and took a quick picture of the victim. Even though the tags were the same, he was going to need Allis to identify that this man was, in fact, her abductor.

  And if he was, then who the hell had killed him?

  Revenge, maybe? Her stalker hired a man to find her, but the abductor decided to kill her, so the stalker kills him instead, to protect her? It sounded lame even just thinking it. Could Allis just have a serious case of bad luck?

  “No defensive marks,” he observed. “Window rolled down. Head is tilted back, not slumped forward. He either knew his killer or he was caught completely by surprise.”

  “You don’t think this was random?”

  Givon shook his head. “Things are becoming a little too coincidental.”

  He spent the rest of the morning with Charlie waiting for the medical examiner to show up. Usually he’d just take the body to the hospital himself, but he wanted to go by the book, just in case he had to go talk to tribal police.

  When the ME finally arrived, he quickly confirmed from the driver’s license in the man’s wallet that this was, indeed, Michael Hiller. Charlie snapped pictures and they both went over the crime scene with a fine-tooth comb, collecting more prints on the inside as well as various receipts and items, before the ME took the body. Then Givon helped hook the SUV to Charlie’s truck before taking off.

  He drove to his home and sat for a moment, staring at his huge, empty house. It was a two-story farmhouse with a wrap-around porch, a sunroom and a balcony off the main bedroom. He didn’t know why he’d bought the damn thing but he’d had some vague notion of having a family, although being forty without even a prospect of a girlfriend had begun to make his decision seem almost laughable. Allis popped into his head and he let the fantasy run for a moment.

  He saw himself coming home after a long shift. The lights would be on. Dinner would be waiting. He’d walk in and she’d hug him, kiss him, run her hands up and down his chest. He’d return the kiss, sink his tongue into her mouth as he’d run his hands over her back to her perfect little ass and pull her into his hard cock. Her moan would wash over him, tempting him to lift her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. It would be so easy to unzip his jeans then push her panties aside so he could slide into her warmth. Then, North would come from behind to finger her clit, making her squirm as Givon pounded into her.