Guns & Burning Rubber: The Iron Brotherhood series (3 page)

“It’s not pertinent to the case, so we’re not going to do anything,” Kara interjected, cutting him off.  She narrowed her eyes at him.  “Since it’s so clear that you put the case first, before anything else.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Cross stood up, his equipment still swinging between his legs as he looked at her in confused consternation.  “What are you saying?”

To be totally honest, Kara wasn’t quite sure why she was suddenly feeling this surge of resentment.  But it was coursing through her, now, and she wasn’t going to back down and let it go. 

“Thank you for helping to arrange the meeting with this friend of the Hellraisers,” she said, keeping her voice flat.  “I’m grateful for your assistance, and I’ll need all the details on this person, their associations, and when and where the meeting will take place.

“But after you’ve given me this information,” she continued, glaring across at this man, doing her best to ignore the fact that she was topless and clad only in a very scanty pair of panties, and that Cross was still totally naked and on glorious, tasty display.  “After you’ve given me what I need to know, we merely need to wait until that meeting.  No further contact is necessary.”  Kara’s meaningful look down at Cross’s equipment made it clear to what exactly she was referring.

Kara had expected Cross to get angry, to be upset and furious about this dismissal.  But what she didn’t expect to see was him just collapse, his face crumpling.  For a moment, he looked absolutely piteous, and she felt her heart give a scary little lurch of sympathy.

But that moment of weakness on Cross’s face only lasted a heartbeat. 

Even as Kara opened her mouth to say something, instinctively trying to lighten the blow, Cross dropped his expression, replacing it with no expression at all.  “Very well,” he said stiffly.  “Professional.  When you’re decent, come downstairs and I’ll give you the details.”

Kara’s mouth opened, as she tried to find the right words to say.  I didn’t mean to be quite so direct, to cause any pain! she wanted to call out.  I just feel scared that I’m losing my grip on the case, that you’re somehow pushing it out and taking away from my ability to remain focused on what really matters!

But she couldn’t speak.  And so, instead, she watched in silence as Cross pulled a pair of jeans up to cover the lower half of his toned and gorgeous body, stepped out through the closed bedroom door, and slammed it behind him.

His footsteps echoed as he walked away, down the hallway.

The female FBI agent winced, sinking down to sit on the bed’s edge.  She was still clad only in those thin panties, and she knew that she ought to get dressed, go get the pertinent information for the next step in her case.

This wasn’t a setback.  This was just keeping the professional boundaries that she needed, salvaging the already damaged walls before any further harm could be done.

This was the cost of her job, of her career.

But still, sometimes, even Kara had to admit that it hurt like hell.

Cross was all wrong for her.  They’d never work together, and they both knew it, at least on an intellectual level.  They were at the completely opposite ends of so many different spectra - professional, legal, and even in their lifestyle choices.

Yet no matter how many times Kara told herself that, it didn’t totally extinguish the little spark that she felt flutter up in her heart whenever she looked at the man, or caught his eyes following her. 

And right now, as she sat on the man’s bed and slowly pulled her clothes back on, that little spark burned away at her, making tears well up at the corners of her eyes.

#

Fifteen minutes later, Agent Kara Sybil made her way downstairs.  Of her previous little emotional struggle, there was no sign.  After getting dressed, she crossed the hall over to the bathroom, spending several minutes in front of the mirror, checking to make sure that she looked presentable.  She straightened and adjusted her clothes to make sure that there was no sign they’d ever left her body, smoothed out her mascara, and readjusted the ponytail that held back her hair.  Only when she was certain that she looked calm and composed did she allow herself to go downstairs.

Cross was sitting on one of the couches, chatting with another man.  Kara recognized the other man as one of the other members of the Iron Brotherhood, but she couldn’t put a name to the face.  Pete, maybe?  Paul?

She glanced around as she stepped down off of the stairs, but of the previous festivities with Colin and his birthday hooker, there was no sign.  Still, Kara carefully avoided sitting on the couch where Colin had fucked the lady of the night, instead grabbing another chair and pulling it over towards Cross.

“Well, have fun with that whole ordeal,” Cross was telling the man sitting next to him as Kara sat down beside him.  “Hopefully she’ll hold off on throwing things at your head until you explain that you were just helping her younger sister get all the wax off.  Or at least, maybe she won’t throw anything too heavy.”

The other biker, Pete or Paul, nodded glumly.  “Yeah, but her younger sister’s got the hots for me too, so she’s not gonna back up my story,” he said with a shake of his head.  “Basically, it might be easiest if I just cut ties and go for the sister.”

“Bad idea, mate,” Cross insisted.  “If this girl’s crazy enough to lie to her own sister in order to steal her older sis’s boyfriend, she’s also crazy enough to try and trap you.  Just watch out - I’ll wager that the first condom she hands you will have a hole in the tip.”

Pete nodded again.  Pete, Kara was fairly sure.  Eighty percent confident.  “Still, those crazy girls are good in the sack, though,” he remarked, perking up slightly.  “Long as I bring my own stuff, could be fun for a few months.”

As he replied, Cross turned, looking directly at Kara.  “Trust me, they’re more trouble than they’re worth,” he said.  “In my opinion, stay away.”

The man was clearly speaking about her!   Kara prickled, but Pete didn’t seem to catch that the message was also directed at Kara.  “Thanks, Cross,” he said, standing up.  “You’ve always got the best advice, man.”

“No problem, Jimmy,” Cross said to him as he strolled away.

Jimmy?  Dammit.  The man really did look like a Pete, Kara thought to herself, but she dismissed this a minute later.  Instead, she focused on not expressing any irritation towards Cross - no matter how many times he insinuated that she was crazy.

“So, tell me about this meeting,” she said once Jimmy had left the room, not wanting to bother with any preamble.  It would just give Cross more opportunities to take potshots at her, and she’d rather not face all of that. 

For a moment, the man looked as though he wanted to try out a few stinging remarks anyway.  But he swallowed the urge, blinking a couple times as he rerouted his thoughts. “You’re meeting with a woman, Alicia, that I know through another friend,” he replied.  “She’s a bit like the woman you met in here this morning, although don’t say that to her - she’s classier than that.”

There was something else, hidden behind the man’s words, but Kara knew better than to push him right now.  “And so she’s not a member of the Hellraisers,” she guessed.

“Definitely not.  They don’t let women into their ranks.  But given her friendliness, she’s grown close to a few of the different members, and she has a good idea of what goes on with their operations.” 

“And she’s friendly?”

“She’s great,” Cross said quickly.  Perhaps a bit too quickly.  Was there something there?  Kara kept waiting, and the man continued.  “She’s more than just how she earns her keep - she really listens and cares, and she’s a great person.”

Yes, there was definitely something else between Cross and this Alicia woman, something that he wanted to keep private.  Kara didn’t want to pry, but suddenly she found herself feeling an irrational dislike towards this woman. 

That feeling of dislike was so strong, it made Kara pause, questioning her own thoughts.  She and Cross were not together!  Why did she care how he felt towards any other woman?  It was simple and unthinking jealousy, certain to dissipate in time once she distanced herself from the situation.

Keep moving, Kara, she thought to herself.  Don’t get caught up on this.  “So where’s the meeting?” she asked.

“Tomorrow at noon.  Remember that diner where we met Under?  She’s meeting you there - and she says that she might have a way to get you in to find out more about the Hellraisers firsthand.”

Kara nodded, but something about that sentence wasn’t right.  It took her a moment before she could put her finger on what exactly was bothering her.  “She’s meeting me?” she repeated.  “You’re not coming?”

Cross shook his head.  “I don’t need to be there.  You know where you’re going, and I’ll just distract you from your case.”  There was just the tiniest hint of venom hiding in those last few words.

Staring at this damn, frustrating man, Kara almost wanted to lash out at him, to tackle him down and punch him over and over until she’d expended all of her anger.  What the hell was wrong with him?  First he chased after her, even though he knew that she would be breaking all of the rules, including her own personal code, to get involved with him.  And then, just when she was finally ready to push all of those rules aside, to give in and give him what he wanted, what did he do?

Right when he was about to have her, he brought the case back into things, flaunting it in front of her face, reminding her of why she was really there.  Kara wasn’t undercover to get close to this man, to let him have his way with her.  She was there to hunt down the source of these guns, and that came first.

Down at her sides, Kara’s hands tightened up, but she forced them to relax.  “Thank you for being professional,” she replied to the man, her words just as innocent and formal as his.

But there was a hint of venom hiding in Kara’s tone, as well.  And even though she tried to keep it out, it still crept in.

Cross said nothing; he just stood up and left the room.  Kara resolutely refused to look after him as he left.

CHAPTER 5

The next evening was, quite possibly, the most uncomfortable experience of FBI Special Agent Kara Sybil’s life.

Neither she nor Cross spoke with the other bikers about their falling out and argument, but it quickly became clear that word had made its way through the grapevine.  Whenever they spotted her, the other members of the Iron Brotherhood turned away, or their conversations quickly dropped from loud and offensive down to quiet tones, switching over to what they must assume were safer topics.  They nodded respectfully to her but didn’t speak to her, making Kara feel like some sort of pariah.

No, more than that, she decided, as another man quickly dropped his eyes as he hurried past her.  She felt like a ghost, where no one had the decency to tell her that she was actually dead.

Cross made himself scarce after passing on the details of Kara’s meeting the next day to her, but even in the relatively large house that the Iron Brotherhood called its clubhouse, he couldn’t avoid her forever.  At dinner, he entered late, and carefully chose a seat at the opposite end of the long dining table, far away from where Kara sat.  There was no eye contact from him, but the decision to sit away from her was still as strong as a slap to the face.

Not to be outdone by the man, Kara stepped up to Gimli when she had the chance.  “Gimli, are there any empty bedrooms on the second floor where I could sleep?” she asked him.  She didn’t speak loudly, but a couple other men nearby were so obviously not listening to her, they might as well be fluorescent and glowing.

Gimli looked shocked for just a second at the question, but he managed to recover fairly quickly.  “Yeah, all the way down at the end of the hall,” he said.  “They’re the furthest from the bathroom, and not very decorated, but no one uses those except when we get guests.”

“Thank you,” Kara told him primly.  “I think I’m going to turn in early, then.”

As she stepped away, Gimli turned to look after her, a rather strained expression on his face.  “Sorry about any mess in them!” he shouted after her.

Upstairs, when Kara located one of these rooms, she found out to what the short, stout man was referring.  Clearly, these were the party rooms.  There were mostly empty beer cans sitting on most of the flat surfaces, some of them putting out considerable smell.  The bed was unmade, and there were a couple stains on the sheets and mattress that made even Kara pause, considering whether this was a spectacularly bad idea.

Still, she wasn’t about to go back and sleep next to Cross.

So Kara did her best to clean up the room as much as possible, and then sat down on one chair that looked largely untouched.  She pulled out her phone, flipping through the multitude of emails she had accumulated over the last few days.

Most of them were relatively unimportant, and she could ignore them.  A couple were from Shaw, the man trying to feel out whether she had any leads in the case, undoubtedly so that he could “assist” by swooping in to claim credit at the last minute.  There was one from Charlie, asking how the bike was working out.  She sent him a brief thank-you reply, wanting to stay on the good side of the IT and requisitions department.

One last email made her pause.  This one was from an address that she didn’t recognize, but upon opening it, Kara found that it had been sent by her uncle, Grazer.  The message itself was short and to the point.