Unplugged: A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance (19 page)

“I…”
Maggie had to pause, because she could
feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she was not about to
cry in front of her father.
No, not now
. She took a breath before she
continued.
“
I was working at a pharmacy in Eagleton.
I got targeted by some low-level thugs looking for a connection to get ac
cess to prescription drugs. I didn’t want to help them, but
there’s just
…
. it
wasn’t safe. I had to get out or they were going to kill me. And I didn’t know
where else to go.
”

She looked up and saw her father
’
s calm face watching her, listening.
Some of h
is anger had melted away, and for that she
was grateful. She said nothing else, waiting for him to respond.

When he did, Henry
’
s voice was almost as quiet as Will
’
s. “
You did the right thing,
”
he said.
“
No one is going to bother you here. Do
you have a pla
ce to stay yet?
”

“
No. I took the long way down and around
from Eagleton. I just got into town this morning,
”
she said.

Henry nodded.
“
Talk to Drake downstairs. He has
connections to a realtor here in town. He can probably arrange a house for you
to stay i
n until we can get you settled somewhere
permanent.
” 
He looked at her with a questioning
eyebrow.
“
Assuming, that is, that you aren’t
planning on running off again as soon as I solve your little problem?
”

Maggie immediately opened her mouth to
spew out the knee-jerk, anti-authoritative bile that often passed as
conversation between her and her father, but she stopped herself. She knew she
was in no position to give attitude, no matter how badly she wanted t
o do it. And the truth was, she hadn’t planned her future
at all, because she still
wasn’t
sure she was going to have one.

She swallowed her words and simply
nodded at her father.
“
That sounds fine. Thank you.
”

Henry nodded.
“We’ll
get this taken care of.
If these people are as dangerous as you say, and if I
’
m going to protect you properly, I need
your promise that you’ll leave that rebellious bullshit at the front door. I
’
m in charge here, and you’ll do as I
say, when I say it. You
’
re my daughter, and I wo
n’t leave
you with the wolves, but I’ll be damned if you
’
re going to abandon your family, come
crawling back for help, and put them in danger because you
’
re too proud to shut up and listen once
in a while. I call the shots, or you can hit the road and take
your chances on your own again. Is that clear?
”

Even as part of her was screaming that
she had made a huge mistake, Maggie nodded again. Her pride wasn’t worth her
life.
“
Yes. Understood.
”

“
Good,
”
said Henry. He stood up from the chair,
and on instinct Ma
ggie stood up with him.
“
Go downstairs and talk to Drake. We
’
ll get this taken care of.
”

Maggie waited for a moment, feeling
hesitant. Should she hug him? Shake his hand? There was no protocol for this
awkward moment. Henry cleared his throat and walked ov
er
to open the conference room door for her, more or less showing her out. Maggie
flushed with a bit of embarrassment as she grabbed her purse and sunglasses and
left the room. Henry didn’t follow, but closed the door behind her, staying in
the conference
room alone.

Someone had started up the jukebox in
the den, and a few more unfamiliar members joined Tommy and Beck at the bar.
When she came down the stairs, Tommy shouted her name happily and grabbed a
beer, cracking it open on the side of the counter.
“I
can’t
believe you
’
re back!
”
he said as he handed it to her.

His kindness immediately took some of
the edge off her nerves. She took a seat at the bar and for a split second, she
felt welcome.
“Can’t
believe it myself,
”
said Maggie as she clinked her bott
le against his in a friendly cheers. She took a few
grateful, deep swigs and tried to gather her senses. When she realized her
hands were shaking again, she put the bottle down on the counter and shoved
them into her pockets nonchalantly.
“
Henry said I nee
d to talk to Drake
…”

“
Well, if it ain’t my lucky day!
”
said the one at the pool table. He had
begun a new cigarette, and patted his table partner on the shoulder as he
walked over with a cocky stride. His greasy blonde hair was done up in a bun on
top of h
is head. Toned, tanned arms showcased a wide
array of colorful old-school tattoos. He was attractive in his own way, but
something in his mannerisms made Maggie
’
s skin crawl. 
“’
Cuz you are about the finest looking
bitch I’ve seen in this place in a
long ass time.
”

The look on Tommy
’
s face was priceless.
“
Dude,”
he said, dragging the word out.

“
What?
”
said Drake. Then he yelped loudly when
he felt Beck
’
s meaty hand whack the back of the head
mercilessly.
“
What the fuck, man?!
”

“
That is
Maggie Olive
r
, you shithead!
”
said Beck without an ounce of humor.
“
As in, your president
’
s daughter?
”

The cigarette tumbled from Drake
’
s lips as his jaw dropped. His eyes went
wide.
“
Oh, oh shit! Fuck me, man, I didn’t know
…
fuck, please don’t tell your old man
…
I di
dn’t mean
any disrespect.
”

“
Oh? Do the other
‘
bitches
’
typically find that kind of talk
respectful?
”
said Maggie with a hint of a smirk as
she took a swig of her beer.

“You
’
re a goddamn moron, Drake,
”
said Tommy, laughing.
“Henry
’
s gonna kill you.
”

“
Hey,
it was an
honest mistake! I’ve never met her before, Jesus! And you
’
re one to talk about being a moron,
Castillo.
”
Drake leaned far over the bar and
smacked Tommy the way Beck had smacked him. Maggie just laughed and rolled her
eyes at their boyish display
and finished her beer
with a grateful breath.

“
Henry said you could find me a house to
stay in while I settle back into town,
”
said Maggie.

“
Oh, no doubt,
”
said Drake as he straightened his shirt
and cut. He bent and picked his still-burning smoke off t
he ground and took a drag.
“
I can definitely do that for you. Lemme
make a few calls while Tommy gets you another beer.
”

Tommy was two steps ahead of him and had
already put an open bottle on the counter in front of her. She tipped it to
Drake and said tha
nks, watching him pull out his
phone and scoot off into the quiet hallway.

“
He the new resident
‘
hook-up artist
’
?”
said Maggie to Beck. It seemed every new generation of the
Black Dogs brought in variations of the same types of men, and the hook-up
artist was a valuable one. The club always found itself in need of random
skills and tools, and a good hook-up artist acte
d
like a spider in the middle of a web of connections, brokering beneficial
relationships between groups who would otherwise never meet.

Beck looked at Drake and nodded.
“
Best one we’ve had in a long time. That
little shit
’
s running so many deals, we can
barely keep up with him.
”

“
He looks like he needs a shower.
”

“
He probably does,
”
said Beck, and clinked her beer bottle
with his as she laughed.

After a few minutes, Maggie actually
felt a little like herself again as she sat at the bar, shooting the shit
with Tommy and Beck. For the first time in years, she felt
safe. It was almost like she had never left.

She listened to Tommy telling a story
about his wonderfully colorful
abuela
when they heard the sound of the
clubhouse door open and shut. Heavy footst
eps came
down the hallway. She didn’t think much of it until one of the members at the
pool table behind her shouted,
“
Hey, Jase! Time to defend your championship, bro!
”

Maggie felt her throat seize up and
almost choked on the swallow of beer she was halfw
ay
into when she heard his name. She found her composure before she could make a
complete ass of herself and gulped it down, turning to face the doorway.

And there he was: Jase Campbell, all
six-foot-one of him. He had been painfully attractive before, and
had only become more-so as a fully grown man. He had
shaved his jet black hair on the sides and kept it long on top, giving him the
appearance of somehow being clean-cut and dangerous all at the same time. He
had always been broad-shouldered, but in the y
ears
since she had seen him, he had clearly been hitting the gym hard. His arms and
chest were huge, his waist whittled neatly beneath his MC cut. And, as the men
who joined the MC were wont to do, he had abandoned the scruff in his early
twenties and grow
n himself a dark beard and moustache
combination. He stood straight like a soldier, always standing out of the crowd
—
even when that crowd consisted of other
alpha males like himself. Power seemed to flow off him like an invisible aura.