Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (9 page)

“That’s
what the meeting is about. They said they can’t deliver that quickly and Mr.
Peterson would like your help coming up with a plan.”

“Fucking
hell. Fine. Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I finish up here.”

The
man left and Sebastian’s lips tightened around his teeth before he exhaled
loudly and looked up at me with his dark and focused gaze. “So, look, Catherine
thinks you’re a good candidate. Your résumé seems fine to me, and like I said,
the very fact that Edward doesn’t want you here is just an added bonus. The fact
that you know about my… other life… is a pain in the fucking ass, but the more
I think about it, the more it can work to our advantage. So, do you want the
job, or not?”

Sebastian
is staring at me again, waiting for me to respond. He’s not as much of a jerk
today as he was on Saturday, but what does that even mean? Even if everything
he says is true, how does that make a damn thing any better? Not to mention I
slept with him.

In
my book, that just makes the situation worse.

Can
I remove that from the equation? What if I hadn’t got to Axle’s that night? If
I had never met Bash. Never let his weird sense of chivalry lull me into
ignoring his attitude and fucking him in the back room. What if I ignore all of
that? Would I take this job? Of course I would. I need the money, and my résumé
needs something on it that I can use as an actual reference. There’s no doubt
that if I hadn’t met Bash, I’d take this job in an instant.

But
I did meet him. And I did fuck him. And I know what kind of a person he is. How
different is his cocky attitude from Edward’s? Maybe it’s true that money isn’t
that important to him, but he still runs a company worth a billion dollars. It
has to carry some weight. He might be more like Edward than he thinks. And can
I ever look at that chiseled face and the sharp contours of his body through
his jacket and not think about the bliss we’d shared? Even now, despite
everything, I can’t help but feel physically attracted to him.

How
would I work side by side with a man that makes my panties wet just by being in
the same room with me, yet infuriates me almost every time he opens his mouth? And
that’s not even considering the fact that he’s a biker. I don’t even want to
know what sort of illegal shit that must mean he’s into on the side. Will I end
up dead if I accidentally misfile something?

“Well?”
He’s growing impatient, but who the hell offers a candidate a job right at the
end of an interview and expects an immediate answer? I need a job badly, and I
would be crazy to turn this down, but everything about this just feels wrong.

After
leaving the bar on Saturday night, I realized that I’m not ready to start
taking more risks, but I don’t even know which decision is more risky anyway. Not
having a job at all, or working for this man. But it’s decision time, and I
have to make one.

“No,”
I finally say, pushing up from my chair. “This… this isn’t for me.” Before he
can say anything more, I turn and yank open the door, trying to get away fast
enough before I change my mind.

CHAPTER
NINE

BASH

“Okay, so what the fuck
do you want us to do with it, then?” Ripper, Snake and I are standing in the
large back room of Axle’s that we use as our common room whenever the bar is
open to the public, staring at the crates of parts that are still lined up
along the back wall. A handful of other members are here as well, the rest of
them out in the main bar. This room is far enough back from there that we can
barely hear the music from the Tuesday night live band coming through the
walls.

Ripper
is glaring at me, and not punching him in the face is one of the hardest things
I’ve had to do in a long time. He’s mad because I told him we aren’t using the
parts from the Piston heist to stock our bike shop. And I’m mad because I told
him this on Sunday after Snake dragged his ass into the club. And yet here we
are, going over it again.

“Maybe
you should have thought of that before you jacked that truck in the first
fucking place?” The anger in my voice can’t be contained as easily as my fists.
Some of the younger recruits look over from the game of pool they’re shooting,
but I don’t care at this point. I’m getting fed up with Ripper’s shit. He’s
turning into an insubordinate ass. A quick look over at Snake just makes me
angrier when my VP just shrugs his shoulders. He should have been on Ripper’s
ass about this as well, but I know that despite their differences, he doesn’t
agree with the new rules either. He’s just not as obvious about it.

“What
the fuck is happening to this club, man? Are we a fucking MC, or are we a
goddamn knitting circle?”

“Don’t
give me that shit. We’ve been over this already. We have a plan.”

“Your
plan. Doesn’t mean we agree with it.”

“Who’s
we?” I watch him closely now, waiting to see if he gives anyone up. I’ve been
trying to root out the dissension in the ranks for the last month but I feel
like I’m no closer today than I’ve ever been. Ripper for sure, but even with
him I don’t know how far his dissatisfaction goes. Is he going to make a move
against me, or is he just blowing off steam? He can be like a four-year-old
that throws a tantrum when you discipline him for kicking the cat.

He
licks his lips as his chest moves up and down, faster than normal. But a deep
breath calms him down and he gives nothing away besides muttering, “Lots of
us.” That’s about as much as I ever get out of him, but is it true? Are there a
lot of brothers that don’t like the new direction I’ve laid out? The club isn’t
big. We only have about twenty full-time members and a few recruits. How many
are lots? Or is he saying lots as a smokescreen, trying to seem like his
opinion means more because it’s being repeated by mouths that don’t actually
exist?

I
take another look at Snake, but he’s all of a sudden decided to study the floor
very carefully. I know he doesn’t love the plan, but does he hate it enough to
make a move against me?

Or
am I just being paranoid?

I’ve
spent so long looking over my shoulder, it’s hard not to imagine that there
might actually be someone there.

“It’s
not going in the fucking store, and that’s that. Find some other way to get rid
of it. Quietly. Ask Knox for help.” I don’t even wait around for an argument. I
need some time away from this before I tear Ripper’s head off, and heading to
my office for some down time seems like the right idea. I’d love to just take
the stuff back to Piston, but there’s no way I can do that without a ton of
questions, and questions lead to interest and investigations and the last thing
I want is bringing heat down on us right now. Especially about anything
connected to Piston. If that happens, my cover’s blown for sure.

Knox
will figure out how to get rid of it. He’s our hook-up artist. If there’s a
contact out there that’ll be able to move high end engine parts quietly out of
the city, he’ll find it. I already told Ripper I don’t care what price we get
for them. None of these guys have any idea how much that shit is worth, anyway.

To
Piston, it’s worth far more than the parts themselves. We have a major deal with
Velocity Motors about to fall about because we don’t have those parts. A deal
worth millions now, and millions more in future business. Not being able to
deliver might mean losing that deal completely. And now that we’re a public
company, that will look bad. Maybe bad enough that people will start asking
questions. Questions that might uncover secret deals or figurehead CEOs. Another
headache I don’t fucking need.

For
about the hundredth time since going public, I wonder if it was the right idea.
Hans pushed it through, not me. Hans is a more traditional CEO type. He’s
helped run businesses before and made them successful, which was why I hired
him in the first place. Going public has been his baby since he started, and I
know the board wants it. I shouldn’t have let them convince me. I have far less
personal control over a public company. Regardless of the secret deals I have
internally, the company still has to ultimately answer to shareholders now. But
Hans was adamant that we needed to go public to grow, and I’ve taken to
deferring to him in most business related issues.

It’s
not until I get to my office that I realize I’m being followed. Snake is right
behind me. I sigh, pushing open my door and motioning dramatically for him to
enter. So much for some down time.

“What?”
I say, as soon as the door closes. It’s obvious he has something on his mind; his
fingernails are digging hard into his braided beard, threatening to unravel it.
What the hell would Snake look like with an unbraided beard? I don’t want to
find out. He’s ugly enough as it is.

“Listen,
Bash… I’m the last one to defend Ripper, but what the hell is going on? The
parts are already stolen. We have the shop that can always use parts. If we
slip those pieces into bikes that come through our doors, no one will ever
fucking find them. And we still charge full price for the job, it’s 100%
profit. Where’s the downside here?”

The
shop he’s referring to is an auto body shop that I hooked the club up with in
an effort to move them into more legitimate enterprises. It specializes in
bikes, but we do cars as well. But what these guys don’t realize is that the
shit they stole don’t go into your typical Harley or Honda.

“Have
you even looked at those parts? That shit is custom. The shipping labels say they
came from Germany and it was destined for Piston. These aren’t OEM parts, man. This
isn’t even your typical aftermarket upgrade. Even if someone walked into our
shop with a bike that could use those things, what do you think would happen
when we put a fucking five thousand dollar set of specialized shocks into a
bike that’s not worth half that much?”

The
blank look on Snake’s face means it would be a waste of time waiting for him to
take a guess, so I try to make it more obvious.

“What
happens the next time he takes that bike somewhere for service other than us?”

“They’ll
be impressed, I guess?” He shrugs. He’s got his beard wrapped around his index
finger and he’s tugging on it.

“They’ll
ask him where he got those parts. They’ll ask him what he paid for them. They’ll
ask him any number of things that we don’t want him to fucking answer, because
those parts are fucking stolen and so fucking unique that there will be no
question where they came from. And then that’s it. Busted.”

“Well,
shit, why didn’t you just say that then? The guys know you know more about
parts around here than anyone. They probably just had no idea what they were
dealing with.”

“Why
didn’t I tell them? How about why the fuck do I need to tell them? Why isn’t
because
your president said so
a big enough downside anymore? Where’s my fucking
respect around here, Snake?” It’s an honest question, and I really would like
my Vice President to answer it.

The
big man screws his face up and for a minute, I think he’s going to spit onto
the floor of my office. Finally, he just shrugs, but he’s carefully avoiding my
gaze. “I don’t know what to say, boss. It’s an MC. Some guys just don’t respect
any authority.”

That’s
true, but it’s not really an answer. That’s always been the case, but in this
club, the president gets respect, otherwise he stops being president. Does
Snake really not know, or does he just not want to tell me? Is he part of this,
too? I’m starting to feel extra paranoid again.

My
phone beeps and I slip it out of my pocket, giving Snake a nod toward the door.
“Just fucking make sure that Ripper talks to Knox and they get rid of that shit
quietly, all right?”

I
wait for him to close the door behind him before I look at my phone. I already
know it’s from work. The texts and e-mails haven’t stopped coming as everyone
is running around trying to save the Velocity deal. I’ve considered hiring
someone to buy the parts back from the MC through Knox, but I haven’t a clue
how to get them back to Piston without raising suspicions. Every move I make
seems to have too many risks lately. This whole thing feels like a juggling act
where I’ve kept the balls in the air just a little bit too long. They’re all
liable to come crashing down onto my head at once, if I’m not careful.

The
e-mail is from Hans, telling me that he still can’t get a straight answer from Germany
on when we’re going to be able to get new parts. Considering the supplier there
was his contact to begin with, that frustrates me to no end.

Than
get yur ass on a plane and talk too them in person
,
I reply, angrily typing so fast that I make three typos that I don’t bother to
correct. I’ll probably need to call his assistant directly to tell her to make
travel arrangements for him, otherwise I know he’ll make up some excuse. This
is what I need my own goddamn assistant for in the first place. I don’t have
time for this shit.

I’ve
already got Catherine bringing in some other candidates, but I’m still annoyed
that Evelyn turned the job down. Why the hell did she do that? I got the
feeling she was pretty desperate to work, and I know Edward isn’t making it
easy on her in the market. I’ve heard from a number of colleagues that he’s
been talking her down everywhere. Is it because we fucked? Was it because I was
teasing her? I had the feeling she was tough enough not to take that shit
personally, but maybe I had her pegged wrong.

If
my attitude turned her off, then she wouldn’t have been a good fit anyway, but
how can that be it? She worked for Edward Stonewall, for fuck’s sake. I might
come off a bit rough around the edges, but that guy is a true asshole. But the
fact is, if he hired her, presumably before they started fucking, she’s
probably pretty good as an EA, which was the main reason I had Catherine call
her in for an interview.

Once
she walked through my door, though, my reasons changed. She instantly became a
threat in that she’s the only one I know that can link me to both the MC and
Piston. And I don’t like threats.

The
best way to contain that particular threat would be to keep her close, and
hiring her on the spot seemed like the best way to do that. Now that she’s
turned me down, I feel like I have to watch my back even more. If word got out
that a motorcycle club president was secretly running a billion-dollar public
company, there’d be a serious problem. I may be the majority shareholder, but I
don’t own even close to 50%, which means I’ll always have to be careful. My
ideas were the ones that got that company off the ground, and next to the MC,
it’s the thing I’m most proud of. Hell, some days I think I’m even more proud
of Piston, because I didn’t start the MC myself—I just took it over.

But
the MC is family more than Piston will ever be. So I need both, and there’s no
way I’m going to let some blond corporate type take that away by flapping her
lips or trying to use that knowledge to trade herself into a better job. I
don’t care how hot she is.

No,
I let Evelyn walk out of my office too easily yesterday. The stakes are too
high for me, and not high enough for her. She needs to keep her mouth shut
about me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.