Page 19 of Fire Meets Fire

“Lucky I came around.” Shitface puffs up his chest and preens.

At my glare, he takes a step back. Seeing the angry faces and hearing the murmuring, I know I’ve got to get on top of this fast. “I did exactly what you challenged me to do. I could have left a note but decided this was a better way to get your attention. Your security needs tightening up, otherwise it won’t be me out here babysitting an expensive bike. It will be stolen for real.”

Chaz folds his arms. “You got a fuckin’ death wish or something? Sure, I challenged you to find a way inside, but not set you up to steal a ride?—”

I advance on him. “Now just wait a goddamn fucking moment.” At my approach, he lowers his hands. “If I wanted to filch a bike, then that’s what I would have done. And by now, I’d have been in the next county, hell, the next state, and you’d never know where I had gone.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well fuck you.” I throw the keys to the bike I’m still holding down at his feet. “I suppose you’re sticking to that line so you don’t need to hold up your side of the bargain and give back the five hundred dollars.”

“Tired of this bitch, Prez,” his sergeant-at-arms remarks in a lazy tone. “I say we take her back to the clubhouse and teach her some manners. Make sure she doesn’t fuck with us again. Or just put a bullet between her eyes now.”

Chaz blinks his way, then again his cold eyes find mine. As he cocks an eyebrow, one side of his mouth rises. I suppress a shiver seeing his sergeant-at-arm’s suggestion is an option that appears to carry appeal. Looking at the men surrounding me, I know one-on-one I could take them, but I’m not stupid enough to think their numbers couldn’t overpower me. And once I’m in their lair, heaven knows what could happen.

My blood runs cold at the thought of what happened the last time I was in a male sanctuary. Clenching my fists, I try to remain in the present, and come to realise that I’ve got to give them something to get them to believe me.

Like most people, I don’t enjoy admitting to a weakness. My muscles contract and my mouth thins. “I couldn’t steal your bike. I can’t ride it.”

The VP snorts. “Oh that’s rich. You can’t fuckin’ ride?”

“Figures a bitch wouldn’t be able to.” The prospect I’m now starting to have no problem thinking of as his moniker is getting on my nerves.

Gritting my teeth, I expand, “I can’t ride a bike, drive a car, or fly?—”

It’s the VP who barks a laugh. “You ain’t got wings or balls so I’m not surprised.”

But Chaz waves him down. He’s looking intrigued. “Why not?”

“She never fuckin’ learned,” one of the others whose name I don’t know remarks.

Again Chaz turns to hush him, and again that querying eyebrow rises my way.

Annoyed that I have to admit it, I huff. “You saw how I was the other night. I have these… episodes where I pass out. I don’t know where or when they’re going to hit, so it’s far too dangerous for me to be in control of a vehicle.”

Completely opposite to any reaction I’d imagined, Chaz’s face softens. “So that’s why you were medically discharged?”

His query might sound innocent, but its reaction on me is anything but. Forcing my voice to remain casual, I ask, “What do you mean?”

“Come now.” He scoffs. “You really think we didn’t find out who tried to rob us? You’re Queenie ‘Helo’ May, Night Stalker helicopter pilot.”

No.My eyes widen, and I feel the blood rush from my face as I take a step backward. Then I take another.

“Wait,” Chaz demands, clearly seeing I’m about to run. “Helo,” he snaps, when I just shake my head in response. He moves quickly and is in front of me, his hands landing on my arms.

I could get out of his hold, but I don’t even try. There’s a buzzing in my ears as my brain begins to work through all the ramifications. Calculating risks, analysing them, and working out my next move.

“You alright? Stay with me.”

The words slowly filter into my brain. Gradually refocusing my vision, I see the president of the Wretched Soulz MC looking at me with narrowed eyes, no longer angry, but concerned. Pushing my initial panic away, I realise I need more information, clarification on what his revelation really means for me.

I swallow a couple of times as my throat has gone dry and finally manage to speak. “H-how did you find out my name?”

Facial features relaxing slightly, he answers me, “Thieves who run away leaving fingerprints and DNA should realise they’ll be found out.”

I’d thought I was dealing with an ignorant motorcycle club, not the freaking FBI. Alarms bells start clanging loudly in my head as my body begins to get flooded with adrenaline.

I might not have expected an MC to be able to find out who I am, but I sure expect whoever’s after me has the expertise or contacts to do exactly that. And to have triggers set for any such search.

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