Page 9 of Fox and Nitro
“Well, that was interesting,” Fox says, amusement lacing his tone.
I grunt in return, because, yeah, it was interesting. Don’t get me wrong, I have noticed Jasmine before tonight. Hard not to when she walks into the clubhouse, with all those curves, looking for her sister.
The air shifts in the cruiser as Fox turns to look at me. I try to ignore his gaze, boring into the side of my face, as I keep my eyes on the road. I know what he’s going to say and I know that I agree with him. But, shit. She’s our boss’s sister.Twinsister to be exact. She’s also the sister of one of the club’s Ol Ladies, and a teacher. A good girl. Someone who has no business being fucked mercilessly by two rough bikers. Especially one that comes with a shit ton of baggage like me. But, deep down, there’s a part of me that thinks there could be something more there. That Jasmine Davies could be the woman we’ve been waiting for.
“You already know what I’m going to say.” Fox says. “You know as well as I do that she’s perfect for us.”
My hands grip the steering wheel tighter, the leather creaking under my palms. “But are we perfect for her?” My gaze flicks to his, meeting his determined gaze.
His jaw clenches once, twice, before his shoulders pull back. “I guess we’ll have to find out.” He smirks in that way that drives me fucking crazy. The way that means no matter what I think he’ll do what the hell he wants anyway and I’ll be dragged along for the ride. Not that a ride with Jasmine would be terrible. I just worry that I won’t be what she needs. Whattheyneed.
“Zane, look at me.” I turn slightly, angling my face toward him, looking at the earnestness in his face. “Trust me.”
I nod once, eyes back on the road as we head back to the department to clock off for the night. Another night where yet again we’ve spent our time pissing around on jobs, no closer to getting rid of the rot seeping into the Rose Grove PD.
Walking into the changing rooms after handing over the keys to the cruiser along with our vests and other shit we have to have on us when we’re on the beat, I head straight for the changing rooms. I need to get out of this shitty uniform. I don’t even bother showering here. Not tonight. It’s been long as hell and I’m about done with this place and this lifestyle. When I got outof the military I thought I was done taking orders. Laughable really seeing as I went straight from there to an MC with a Pres who calls the shots. But that’s different. Marx is different. What he’s built is a family, a place where we can land and be brothers.
Fox pulls his clothing out of his locker in haphazard fashion, stuffing his uniform inside and shoving the door closed. I roll my eyes at his antics, hanging mine as I stand in my boxer briefs.
“Deputies,” Moss says, wandering into the locker room, eyes swinging wildly around the small area.
He walks into the next row of lockers, tapping something gently, then huffing. Fox and I share a look and I slide my well worn jeans up my legs, doing the button and yanking the zipper as I take a seat on the wooden bench that sits in the middle of the locker aisle. I pull on my scuffed up boots, before pulling on a tshirt and then shrugging my cut over my shoulders. If shit is going down I want to be dressed for it.
Fox takes a seat next to me, although fully dressed, the heat of his thigh burning into mine. Moss steps out from the second locker row, hands on his hips.
“Good work tonight, anything unusual crop up?”
Fox and I share a look, and I have to look away when Fox’s lips tip up into a smirk. “Nope, nothing unusual at all.”
Moss narrows his eyes, looking from Fox to myself, and I keep my face as neutral as I can. We never promised we’d keep her secret, but I’m also not a snitch so I don’t say shit.
“Good. Good. I’m about to head out, clock off and I’ll see you both tomorrow.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away at something as two deputies walk in, heads bent together.
They’re two of the men who seem to always be orbiting around Hitchens. Fox and I have tagged both as problematic, but we don’t have shit on them. Yet.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, reading the message on the screen.
Moss: My place, ten minutes.
I nod once, pocketing my phone as he walks out.
“What do you think that’s about?” Fox murmurs.
“Dunno, but it’ll have something to do with Hitchens.”
Fox nods once, then wet willy’s me. “Last one on their bike is the bottom!”
Joke’s on him. I’ll take him any way I can.
Jasmine
My brothers car lights blast through my front room window as Lil and I lie on the couch in the dark. Shit. I should have really closed my blinds but I didn’t and now I’m in a food coma and can’t move. Oh well, in a few seconds he’ll flick them off and move inside to relieve Mom of her babysitting duties. Not that she minds. She loves those boys to distraction, spending most of her time feeding them and then crying over how cute their chubby little toes are while making sure they know that they don’t take after their lying, cheating mother in any way, shape or form.
The roar of motorcycles is deafening as they seem to hover outside for an eternity, drowning out the characters’ voices in whatever this lame rom com is that Lil and I are watching.
“What the hell is going on out there,” Lil grumbles, making no move to check it out.
“I dunno, and I don’t care. It’ll be some weird Moss thing” I say, leaning forward and grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl sitting between me and Lil.
