Dante's Angel (2 page)

Only, that
hadn’t happened.

Zoe was an
absolute mystery to him. After the first few days of her working with him, he
could see that she was damn good at the job. She was beautiful, friendly to the
customers, and learned the drink menu with ease. As with all their employees,
he’d done the standard background check on her and nothing had popped. Still,
Dante’s internal warning system had nagged at him. It was clear she was wicked
smart, far too intelligent to be happy working in a biker bar in a small town,
but whatever brought her there had been his gain, so he’d let it go.

Or at least he
let people believe he’d let it go.

She had proved
herself through her hard work, and when she’d shown an aptitude for the
accounting program he usually struggled with on the computer, he’d gratefully
dumped the entire mess in her lap. That was odd in itself, because he shouldn’t
have let someone who had only worked for him a short time help with the finances
of the business. But he’d gone with instincts on that, and it had paid off.
He’d still double checked her work, but with her helping with the managerial
duties, things at the bar had been streamlined in the matter of weeks.

Yeah, hiring
her had been both a blessing and a curse.

Over the long
months she’d been working for him, Zoe had quickly become one of his most
valuable employees, but she was more than that to him. So much more. The sexual
tension was there between them, and it got worse every day.

But Dante
hadn’t been able to do a fucking thing about it.

How the hell could
he when she’d shot him down flat? He could deal with rejection. Where one woman
said no, countless others would say yes. The problem was he didn’t want any
other women. No, he wanted Zoe. She had somehow turned into an obsession that
had his body in a constant state of need, like an addict that craved a fix.

And that
craving had turned into a hunger that was slowly driving him out of his mind.

With a growl
of frustration, Dante got up from the bench and stalked toward the men’s locker
room to wash the sweat from his body. Thinking about Zoe always put him on
edge, and it completely wiped out the calm he’d gain from the last few hours
hitting the bags.

Dante ignored
the classy ambiance of the men’s locker room that usually amused him and headed
straight for his locker. He left his dirty clothes on the floor right where he
stripped them off and felt a brief pang of guilt when he looked down at the
pile. Leave it to Hammer to turn a gym locker room into five star
accommodations, he though wryly.

Fuck it.

Pushing guilt
aside, he left the mess on the floor and walked naked to the showers, grabbing
a towel off the top of a cart on the way. The hot water felt like glory on his
aching body as he scrubbed himself clean using the products provided in
dispensers that Hammer had installed into each shower stall. Resting his hands
on the wall, he let the water rain down on him to rinse away the soap suds. If
only his troubled thoughts could be washed down the drain just as easy.

Dante briefly
considered jacking off, but decided against it.

What would be
the damn point?

He’d only have
a moment of relief, then the next time he thought of Zoe—which seemed to be
every other fucking minute—his dick would get hard as stone again, just like it
always did when he thought of the little hellion.

It happened so
often that he’d gotten used to being a walking hard-on ever since she had come
into his life, and knew the only cure would be fucking her into the next
century. The damn woman had him so tied up in knots that she destroyed any
semblance of control he had whenever he was around her.

Finishing his
shower, Dante turned off the water, then used the towel he’d hung outside the
shower stall to dry off. He made sure to throw the towel in a bin after he dressed
in the jeans and black t-shirt he’d been wearing earlier. It was one thing to leave
his own things in a messy pile, but he didn’t want to incur the wrath of
Hammer’s cleaning staff when they opened in the morning. Besides, he didn’t
want anyone knowing he’d been in after hours…again.

He zipped up
the black hoodie with the red and white Rough & Tough logo on it he’d worn
in defense against the cool temperature outside, then shoved his dirty gym clothes
into a bag. When he left the building, he made sure to set the security system
again before he locked the back door.

The night air
was chilly, but it felt good against his face. After shoving his stuff into the
saddlebag that was attached to the side of his bike, Dante got on his Harley
and fired it up. The bike was one of his most favorite possessions. He had a
big-ass truck for times when the weather was bad, but for most of the year, he
liked riding out in the open air. In a town where tons of people owned bikes,
his stood out with its custom matte-black finish and tribal design of a silver
fox on the sides of the gas tank that a friend had painted on it.

He loved the
low snarl the machine made as he pulled out of the parking lot, then on to the
main road. It was late on Sunday night, but the people in Breakers were used to
hearing the sound of bikes passing through town. Enjoying the cool night
breeze, Dante drove the few blocks down toward The Fox Hole, his family’s bar.

It always gave
him a little thrill to pass by the place.

Unlike
Hammer’s chosen path, Dante had always known exactly what he would do when he
returned to his hometown. The Fox Hole was his family’s legacy, and Dante
managed the place with no small amount of pride. It was a biker bar that had
gained a colorful reputation over the years, but it was home to him. No one had
blinked an eye when he’d followed in his father’s footsteps to become an Army
Ranger, just as no one had been surprised when Dante left the service to come
home and take over their family bar when Malcolm Fox suffered a heart attack.

Family came
first to Dante…always.

Years ago,
Malcolm Fox had struggled to find a way to raise two young kids after his wife
left him. She had wanted something different for her life than being stuck in a
small town, and that something had included a rich man to take care of her and
give her things that Malcolm couldn’t provide. But she hadn’t just left her
husband. She’d also walked out on her kids’ lives without looking back, and
that was something Dante would never forgive her for.

His real
family was his father and younger sister, Danica, and Dante was just fine with
that.

Although some
might say they’d had a weird childhood, Dante and his sister had loved spending
time with their father at the bar. The staff had been like having a giant
extended family, and even as Malcolm worked hard to build up his business, he
always had time to help them with their homework and go to Dante’s games or
Danica’s dance recitals.

The three of
them had become a unit, but Dante had always known he would be the one to take
over running the bar since Danica had always been meant to follow a different
path. She and Dante remained close...or as close as they could be when he’d
been in the military, and now when she was traveling all over the world on tour
as the choreographer for pop sensation, Gemma. There was satisfaction knowing
that his sister was following her dream, but he still missed having the brat
around.

A favorite
hangout for locals and tourists alike, The Fox Hole was always packed with
people. It didn’t matter if it was a weekday or the weekend when the party
crowds came out en masse. During the daylight hours, customers flocked to the
bar for the good food and cold drinks, but when the sun went down, the
atmosphere changed to something a little more wild.

There was an
air of danger to the place that suited Dante just fine. Each evening after the
sun went down, the bar filled up with hard-eyed men and scantily-clad women
looking for a good time. They had their fun, drank and hung out, but there were
strict rules that were enforced to ensure the safety of everyone that walked
through the doors.

And anyone who
broke those rules found themselves in a world of hurt.

Since the
doors of the bar had first opened, Malcolm Fox had always treated the people
who worked at the bar like family, and Dante continued that tradition when he
came home to take over managing the place. With the amount of muscle they had
working in the bar, very few people were stupid enough to step out of line.
However, when it did happen, the staff took care of the troublemakers with
almost scary efficiency.

Given that
most of the men that hung out at the bar rode motorcycles and had an aura of
danger around them, the townspeople had nicknamed the regulars the Breakers’
Bad Boys. Despite their tattooed and rough exteriors, they were damn good men
who were fiercely loyal and followed a strong moral code.

For years the
nickname had just been a passing joke, but recently the name had taken on a
different meaning. With the help of some of the people in town, one of Dante’s
friends, Daryk Nyght, had created an actual organization using that name. The
Breakers’ Bad Boys had always looked out for their town, but their duties now
included helping abused women and children in need of help. Whether it be
needing someone to stand with them while they testified in court, or escorting
them to safety, the Breakers’ Bad Boys were willing and able to assist.

When Malcolm
Fox had come back to Breakers and opened The Fox Hole as a way to support the
family, there was no way he could have known what an impact his bar would make
on the town. It always made Dante smile to think about how his father—a former
Army Ranger, biker and all round bad-ass—had become a freaking pillar of the
community.
 

It could only
happen in a place like Breakers.

And now that
they were preparing for the 30th anniversary of the bar in a few weeks, there
was an even deeper sense of pride that flooded Dante whenever he thought of The
Fox Hole. His father had built something that had lasted.

And one day,
Dante would pass it on to his own children to run.

His body was
tired, but Dante’s mind was still wide awake. He thought briefly about stopping
at the bar to double check the details for the upcoming anniversary party, but he
figured he was better off getting some sleep. Yeah, he should just go home and—

What the fuck?

Dante stopped
his bike in the middle of the road, his foot slapping down hard on the pavement
as his eyes narrowed at the dim glow of lights coming from inside The Fox Hole.
Starting the bike again, he made the turn, heading into the parking lot behind
the building. He knew he’d turned the lights off when he’d closed the place for
the night after the last of the staff had headed home a few hours ago.

So, what the
fuck were they doing on now?

The faint
light coming from inside signaled that there was someone in there. Someone that
had gone in after Dante had locked up. Just the thought had his blood boiling.
His bar was the last place that anyone would be stupid enough to break into. Then
again, there were a lot of fucking stupid people in the world.

Since they’d
added better soundproofing to the bar a few years back to placate the
neighbors, Dante didn’t worry about whoever was inside hearing his approach. He
turned off his bike and quickly stalked over to the side entrance to the
building. He paused briefly to consider calling Sheriff Wyatt, then nixed the
idea. He wanted time to deal with the stupid motherfucker who’d broken into his
place himself before turning them over to the authorities.

Of course,
that would be if he left whoever it was alive after he was done with them.

Dante slipped
the balisong out of his back pocket where it always resided, and with a quick
flick of his wrist, the butterfly knife opened. The small, lethal weapon was
something he was known for carrying. Something he was proficient at using with
deadly skill.

He’d never
tried to hide the fact that he always had it on him, even before Texas law had
been changed a few years ago, making switchblades legal to carry. But it wasn’t
just a deterrent…he’d damn well use it if he had to, and people knew it.

He tried
opening the side door, then frowned when he found it was locked. That would
have slowed down anyone trying to make a quick exit. Stupid, he thought again
as he silently unlocked the door, then slipped inside the building.
Automatically transitioned back into his combat training, Dante was ready for
anything as he moved into stealth mode.

A spark of rage
flashed through him as he saw the alarm had been deactivated on the inside of
doorway. He knew he’d set the alarm before leaving earlier. It was a good
system, far more sophisticated than the average thief would be able to handle.
He closed the door without making a sound, then bolted the door to delay anyone
from escaping if they somehow got past him.

Son of a
bitch, could one of his own be stealing from him?

Fuck that,
Dante swore to himself. No one that worked for him would try to rob him. They
all knew better. Knew that he’d track them to the ends of the earth and skin
them alive if they did. Thinking about that cooled his anger a bit, then
confusion struck as the sound of soft music reached him.