BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (21 page)

BOOK: BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset)
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The furniture reminded Sinclair of the décor of a cabin high in the mountains.  All the colors were earth toned and soothing. 

“I take it you like cabins?”  She said as her eyes swept over two framed black and white photos of mountain scenes. 

“I do.”

“Mountains too?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you here?”

Niall looked at her levelly.  “Why are you?  Your accent isn’t Floridian.”

Sinclair laughed in spite of herself.  “Florida doesn’t have just one accent.”

“Right, and you don’t sound like any of them.”

It was Sinclair’s turn to lay a level look.  “I’m originally from South Carolina.”

“What part?”

“Aiken.”

“Cute town.”

Sinclair nodded and tried to discern how many bedrooms were there.  The kitchen was open to the living room and the tiny hallway ended in the one bedroom.  A bathroom door was open and what she assumed was a closet was directly across from it. 

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” 

“You can have my room.  I’ll take the couch.” 

Sinclair studied his face.  Niall had a problem with facial expression.  The problem was he lacked expression.  If he were a woman, Sinclair would have to say that he had resting bitch face.  She supposed it helped him in his line of work.  He wouldn’t want his thoughts spoken by a raise of the eyebrow or a sly smile, but his still blank face gave her the creeps. 

“I don’t understand why I have to stay with you.”

“It’s Enrique’s guarantee that you won’t run.” 

“I haven’t run yet, why would I now?” 

Niall shrugged.  “He’s a cautious man.  And you were a no show at court.”

Sinclair took her bag to his room and sat on the bed, resting her bag on her knees.  His room was shadowed, but she could tell that besides the bed and chest of drawers, the only other furniture was a bedside table.  It looked like more earth tones.

Niall’s form blocked the light as he leaned against the door frame.  It made him faceless, leaving Sinclair feeling menaced. 

“We need to start this tonight.” 

“Tonight?”

“Yes, so freshen up, change clothes, or whatever.  Who knows, maybe by morning Joseph Overman will be in custody, and you can get your life back.” 

“Then let’s go.”  She said angrily, rising from the bed.

Joseph’s last known address was well known to Sinclair, and probably Enrique as well.  She really didn’t know why they were bothering with a dead end, but a starting point was a starting point.  His roommates would be less than hospitable, she was sure.  They barely tolerated her presence when she had stayed over. 

“So, where are we going?”  Niall waited with the engine idling softly. 

“West Palm Beach 83
rd
Lane North.  It’s Nottingham Apartments unit 41.”

“Not a great neighborhood.”

Sinclair licked her lips.  “No, it’s not, but I’ve seen worse.”

“Here in Palm Beach?”

“No.  I went to visit an aunt in Miami when I was thirteen.” 

“Bad?”  He glanced at her quickly, noting how she licked her lips again.  It was sensual sight, as her tongue slid over her thick bottom lip before disappearing back into her mouth, but he knew it was a nervous gesture, and not one meant to arouse or tease. 

“Yes, it was bad.  My Aunt was not what my mother thought.” 

“Why did she allow you to go if she didn’t know her very well?  Was it your Mom’s sister?”

“No, my father’s.” 

“Where was he?”

“He was supposed to be there visiting too, but he had other plans.” 

“Like what?”

Sinclair whipped her head around, eyes narrowed.  “Why are you so interested in my childhood?” 

“Just making conversation.  Sometimes a person’s childhood will indicate why they do stupid things as an adult.” 

“Oh! So, you’re trying to see if I took the rap for Joseph because I crave love due to Daddy issues?”

Niall shrugged, sliding one hand to the top of the steering wheel. 

“If the shoe fits…” 

“The damn shoe doesn’t fit!”  Sinclair barked and crossed her arms. 

Good. Let her be angry.  Anger can be an excellent motivator
.

“For your information, my father loved me very much…he was just busy a lot.”

“Alright.”  Niall’s voice didn’t belie any emotion, but it didn’t stop Sinclair from continuing.

“I guess you think that’s a grown child’s way of coping with the neglect?”

“I didn’t say that, Sinclair.”

“You might as well have!”

Niall tried to ignore the quick swipe she made of her cheek.  She rubbed her palm along her thigh and sniffed lightly.  He didn’t want to feel bad for this woman.  He liked her spunk and her bravery, but he didn’t want to pity her.  How could he hand her over to the police later if he liked and pitied her?  It was painfully obvious that whatever went on in Miami hadn’t been good, and it was also obvious that her father hadn’t been in her life very much.

Niall was content to allow the entire conversation to drop, and was shocked when Sinclair’s voice cut a thin line through the vehicle. 

“He was always on business trips.  It wasn’t until I went to Miami that I figured out what kind of business trips he was always on.”

Niall sighed silently.  He didn’t think he wanted to hear anything else about it. 

“He was a hitman for the mob and that was it.  Occasionally he would get pinched, and have to stay a little while in jail, but he always got out of it someway.”

Niall couldn’t help himself.  “And your Aunt?”

Sinclair shrugged, and wiped at her face again.  “An addict, who had the occasional pimp.”

“How long were you there?”

“Four days.  Long enough to see my Aunt get high, and my father shoot a man.”

“Did your mother know?”

Sinclair shook her head.  “My mother is a Bible beating Baptist.  She wanted my father to be in my life, and she bought into the lies that he was a busy business man.”

“Did you ever tell her what happened?”

“No.” 

“Why not?”

“What purpose would it have served?  She would have blamed herself, then made a telephone scene with my Aunt.  Probably tried to have my father arrested.  It just wouldn’t have been worth it.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“No.” 

They pulled into the parking lot of Nottingham Apartments, and Niall was struck by how plain the place looked.  Two palm trees were the only landscaping, and the three buildings were simple tan stucco.  It was slightly depressing. 

Sinclair pointed to the building they needed to go in. 

“It’s after midnight.  I’m not sure this is a good idea.”  Her attempt at persuasion sounded weak even to her ears. 

“What is the living environment like?  Is it hard working individuals who need to get up early?”  The mocking in his voice was unmistakable.

Sinclair sniffed.  “Joseph was the only hard working one while he worked for Enrique.”

“Then it won’t be a problem.”

Niall watched Sinclair climb the outer steps to the second floor, her back straight and head held high.  He liked how she moved.  She didn’t shuffle or close in on herself, her very presence exuded a confidence he knew she really didn’t have, but her effort was stunning.  He shook his head lightly. 
What’s wrong with me
?  She smelled nice too.  Her floral perfume mingled with something natural, that only one with heightened senses would be able to pick up on.  If he named it he would say she smelled of cool clear nights. 

Sinclair raised her hand to knock on the door of the apartment, her heart in her throat.  What if he was in there?  What if he wasn’t?  Music could be heard from inside.  It was the usual fare for that household: punk.

Niall slid to the left hand side of the door, out of range for anyone peering through the peep hole.  He stared at her steadily, nodding his head once.

Sinclair pounded on the door and stepped back.  The music went silent and footsteps approached the door and stopped.  She was sure she heard a quiet hiss and curse from the other side.  Ricky opened the door as far as the inner chain would allow.

“What is it, Sinclair?”

Sinclair’s head went up a notch.  “Is he here?”

“No, he hasn’t been here since that shit went down.”  His shoulder length auburn hair was in dire need of a wash, and she could smell the acrid scent of marijuana wafting through the partially opened door.  Someone whispered on the other side and Ricky’s eyes slid to the person quickly. 

“I left a few items here…in Joseph’s room.  May I get them?”

One corner of Niall’s mouth twitched. 
Smart
.

“Nah, I don’t think that’s necessary.”  He grinned and Sinclair was struck by how dirty his teeth were.  She suppressed a shudder. 

Niall pulled his badge from his front pocket.  It wasn’t a real one, like a regular cop would have, but it seemed to make people move when he flashed it.  He moved in front of Sinclair and pressed it toward the open space.  He smiled as Ricky’s eyes grew large. 

“Let the lady in.” 

“Hey, you need a warrant to come in here!”

Niall stepped back and kicked the door.  A piece of the broken chain hit Ricky in the forehead as he backed away. 

“Hey, man!  You can’t do that!” 

Niall palmed his badge and returned it to his pocket.  He swept his gaze over the little living room.  One startled young man held a bong halfway to his lips, smoke drifted from the top in a mesmerizing cloud.  Another man was already on the ground, face down, with his fingers laced over the back of his head. 

“Either one of them him?” 

“No.”  Sinclair responded. 

Niall pulled a snub nosed pistol from an ankle holster and handed it to Sinclair.  He removed a more substantial handgun from his back waistband.  Sinclair had no idea the weapons were on him.

He handed her the snub nose.  “You know how to use this?”

“Yes.”

“Keep it pointed at the three of them while I check the other rooms.” 

Ricky took a slow seat, his eyes pinned on Sinclair.  The man on the floor didn’t get up, but he glanced upward at her curiously. 

“I told you he wasn’t here.”  Ricky sneered.  “You always were a dumb bitch.”

Sinclair lifted one shoulder.  “Now I’m a dumb bitch with a gun.  Sucks to be you, I guess.”

Both seated men looked at each other nervously as Niall could be heard opening closets and moving things. 

“Did he tell you where he was going?”

“Maybe.” 

The man with the bong set it on the floor at his feet, and pushed Ricky in the shoulder. 

“She has a gun!  Tell her what you know, dumbass!”

Ricky sighed and pushed his greasy hair from his face.  “He said he was headed home to regroup.  He said he had something valuable…but he wasn’t sure what it was and he needed to find out.”

“Something he took from Enrique Arrays?”

“Yeah.”

“He took money from Enrique.”

Ricky nodded, the glint in his eyes telling of how much he enjoyed having the upper hand. 

“He took money, sure, but he has something else too.”

“What?”

“He wouldn’t show us.  He said it was some kind of voodoo stuff.”

Niall walked silently back into the room.  “Think hard.”

Ricky looked at Niall with spiteful glare.  “I should call the cops for you breaking and entering!” 

“How do you know I’m not a cop?”  Niall squatted on the floor, the movement sudden yet graceful.  Ricky didn’t like it one bit.  It was unnerving. 

“Well…”

“Well, you should tell us everything you know, and maybe I’ll let the half pound of weed and the numerous baggies of pills slide…this one time.”

The two men looked at Ricky pleadingly.  It was obvious he was their leader of sorts.  Sinclair thought it odd.  Joseph had always been the ring leader of that particular circus.  The man on the floor rose slowly, and sat Indian style with his hands in full view.


Tell them
!”  The man on the couch hissed.

“So…he didn’t come back here until a couple weeks after she was arrested.  He was babbling about not getting as much cash as he had wanted, but he had something in a velvet baggie thing.”

“How big was the bag?”

“Ever seen a Crown Royal bag?”

Niall nodded.  He had seen the expensive whiskey, but had never splurged to buy it. 

“Ok, well it was maybe half the size of one of those, and it was this weird dark green color…sometimes…sometimes not.  It was like trick paint, but it was velvet.”

“I wanted him to get rid of it.”  The man on the floor spoke.  His accent was thick. 

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