Page 1 of Chill’s Chance

CHAPTER ONE: CHILL

My phone buzzes. Again. I’m two seconds away from tossing it up in the air and using it for target practice. The only thing stopping me is how pissed off Puma would be if I scared away all the rich snobs. I can’t even turn the damn thing off because I’m heading security for this shindig. Not sure why Puma thought this auction was a good idea. MCs and multimillionaires don’t mix. Although, I can’t say that to my President. Seeing as he’s both. I glance at him to see him talking to another millionaire, Salvador Gutierrez. While Puma earned his millions playing in the NBA, Sal earned his supplying drugs via his cartel.

I sigh as I take the phone out of my bag and check the screen. Hunter Bryson flashes across the display. Every time I see his name, I want to scream or shoot something. Preferably him. Because I can still remember when his name used to send waves of lust through my system. Now, it just pisses me off.

He’s been calling me several times a day for the past two days and I don’t know why. I could listen to the twenty-seven voicemails he’s left me, but since I don’t want to know why he’s reaching out to me after all this time, I’ve deleted the messages. My phone pings, letting me know I have a new voicemail to delete. Yippee.

“You could try looking like you aren’t planning the death of everyone in here.” My Enforcer, Dice, says as he sidles up to me. He looks good in a tux. His black hair brushes the top of his shoulders. The suit does a good job emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. I smirk as I notice two women checking him out. They scowl at me when they see him talking to me, so I scowl back. I laugh when they run out of the room. “I don’t think Puma wants you terrifying the natives.” He laughs.

“I just wish this was over.” I tell him. I know the event is for a good cause, but I’m grumpy. It has something to do with the annoying phone calls from Hunter and even more to do with the skin tight dress and high heels I’m wearing. “How am I supposed to stop someone from stealing anything if I can’t run?” I ask him, glancing down at my four-inch heels.

“You take them off and stab them in the back with them?” Dice suggests.

I nod at his suggestion. I could do that.

“Or just shoot them.” He deadpans.

I grin. “I like that idea even better.”

“Ten o’clock.” Dice whispers to me, moving so I can look past him. I spot his concern right away, not because he stands out in a crowd of tuxes in his jeans, t-shirt and motorcycle boots, but because I know him.

“Son of a bitch.” I hiss, causing Dice to reach for his gun hidden under his jacket. I place my hand on his arm to stop him. “It’s ok. I’ve got this.”

“Are you sure?” He asks. “We can take him together.”

“I’ve got it. He isn’t here to steal anything.” I glance around and spot Sal walking away from Puma. “Looks like Puma and Sal are done talking and Sal looks ready to leave. Go touch base with him and oversee getting his purchases back to his warehouse.”

“You sure?” Dice asks, glancing at the man before focusing back on me. He grins when he sees the look on my face.

“I’m fucking positive.” I tell him, striding across the floor to confront Lieutenant Hunter Bryson, the dickhead who’s been blowing up my phone. He shifts into a defensive posture when he spots me striding toward him. Smart man. “What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss at him. “And how the fuck did you get in?” The event is invitation only. He shouldn’t have been able to get past security. Looks like the hotel will need to hire new staff once I’m done skinning the bastards for not doing their job.

“I’ve snuck into enemy encampments deep in the desert. You think I can’t manage getting past a few wannabe cops?” He sneers. “And I wouldn’t have had to sneak in if you had just taken my phone calls.”

“I guess nothing has changed.” I snap back. “You still can’t take a hint. If I wanted to talk to you, I would have answered the fucking phone. I have nothing to say to you and you have nothing to say that I want to hear. Now get the fuck out of here before I throw your ass out.”

“You can try.” He taunts me with a smirk. “Don’t forget, I know all your moves.”

I smirk back. “You may know mine, but you don’t know theirs.” I say, nodding toward Dice, Wildcard and Hawk, who are standing near the door, watching us. “They’ll be happy to kill you for me.”

Hunter glances over, which gives me an opportunity to study him. His hair is longer than I remember and he has a few day’s worth of growth along his strong jaw. There was a time when I knew his face better than I knew my own. He could take my breath away with just a twitch of his full lips or a quirk of his eyebrow. I used to get lost in those sea-blue eyes. Until I discovered his secret, one that just about destroyed me. I should hate him and sometimes I do. But seeing the bags under his eyes and the gray tinge to his skin has me worried about him. Dammit.

“What the fuck do you want?” I ask him.

“I need your help. Please. You and your club.”

“Help with what?” I demand.

“I need you to find my son. Someone killed his mother and now he’s missing.” Hunter pleads. I can hear the sorrow in his voice, but it’s the fear in his eyes that breaks my resolve.

“Tell me.” I order.

He glances around the room and stiffens. I follow his gaze to see Detective Sterling enter the room. He moves straight to Puma.

“Fuck.” I whisper, moving over to a nearby table to pick up a catalog and pen. I write the instructions to our clubhouse on the catalog and hand it to Hunter. “Meet me here tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to Puma, and I’ll see if he’s willing to help you.”

Hunter takes the catalog and slides out of the room.

I look over at Puma, who is gesturing for me to join them.

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