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There was a knock at the door before Shooter's voice called through it. “Everyone decent? Not that I would mind seeing all your flawless curves, Alex honey, but Break yeah... don't want to know you that well.”
“Come in,” I called, lifting my head off of Breaker's chest to see Shoot walk in, a coffee tray in one hand and a brown bag in the other.
“Coffee and bagels,” he offered, putting the items down on the nightstand between our beds as he kicked off his shoes, removed his belt, and walked over to the bags to rummage for some clothes.
He lifted his shirt and I got a full view of his body. And it wasn't like Breaker's endless ridges of chiseled muscle. But it was long and lean with a altogether way sexy strength evident underneath all of his colorful tattoos. And I mean... all. He was covered- waistband of his jeans to the eagle on his neck.
“Any word?” Breaker asked, snapping me out of my little inspection with a guilty jerk.
Shooter moved to the bathroom as he unbuttoned his pants, closing the door briefly, and coming out in a pair of black basketball shorts slung low on his hips. “All over the news. Seems they're focusing on some new player in town idea seeing as so many 'criminal operations' were hit. Lex's place that survived that last blast was taken out by a fire. No word on him. Hailstorm has minimal damage,” he said, reaching for a coffee as he sat at the side of his bed facing us, his eyes sliding over our intimate position with some curiosity, but mostly a strange sort of satisfaction. Like he was glad for it. “But that place is practically fireproof with all the shipping containers and shit.”
“The Henchmen?” Breaker asked.
Shoot shrugged. “That place was locked down tight too. No one was around. Reign, Cash, and Wolf were all off at some kind of dinner party Summer got a bug up her ass about.”
“Reign, Cash, Wolf, and Summer?” I asked, my brows raising. I knew of them from my research. Reign was the MC president. Cash was his brother and vice. Wolf was the road captain. And Summer was Reign's 'old lady' or whatever bikers called their women. It wasn't the names that I was questioning, it was the intimacy with which Shooter said them.
“Done some jobs with them in the past, darlin',” he said, shrugging. “Something like friends to me. Did some checking around to make sure they got out alright. They're good.”
“Any theories?”
Shooter shook his head. “I didn't talk to any of them direct. Just overheard one of their probates talking.”
“What about the Mallicks?” I found myself asking, thinking of Shane and his girlfriend Lea. I didn't know them know them, but I still hoped they were all alive and well.
“Bar was closed,” Shoot said, a strange edge to his voice.
“Chaz's is never closed,” Breaker said, sitting up slightly, me going with him.
Shooter nodded like he agreed. “I know. But it was.”
“You guys don't think the Mallicks did this, do you?” I asked, looking between them.
“Not their style,” Breaker answered.
“Then what's with the weird non-verbal conversation you two are having right now?” I asked, raising my brows at him.
“It just seems like,” Shooter started, grabbing my attention, “maybe they were tipped off about the explosions.”
“What? Why?”
“Because Janie is smart,” Breaker said, grabbing my attention. I sat up fully, moving off his chest so I could look at him.
“Explain,” I demanded.
“She had some kind of plan. Fuck if I know what it is because this shit she pulled? Not good. You don't fuck with four of the biggest players in town. That shit is suicidal. Especially fucking with the people who took you in and trained you,” he said, meaning the people at Hailstorm, the survivalist camp she lived at and worked in. “She's stupid as fuck for doing any of this. But she's smart for making sure there were no casualties anywhere but at Lex's.”
“But why blow up the other places at all?”
“To create chaos. Maybe give herself a chance to get away,” Shooter said, drawing my attention. “Like Break said, Janie is smart. She has some sort of plan. I'm guessing the extra explosions were to throw everyone off. No one knows where to point the blame. Which gives her the chance to get away or clear her name. Who knows. We'll have to keep an eye from a distance.”
I nodded. “Breaker says we're going somewhere cold and snowy where I have to wear lots of layers,” I informed him.
“Like fuck we are,” Shooter said, giving me a dazzling smile. “I have a week worth of skirt chasin' to catch up on. I ain't chasing around some fucking Eskimos. I want easy access. So we're doing warm and sunny and Breaker is just going to have to fucking live with it. Right, darlin'?”
I smiled at him, then turned to Breaker who gave me a look that very much implied he wasn't too happy with the idea of the two of us teaming up on him. And also, knowing it was likely to happen a lot in the future.
“Right,” I agreed, squealing when Breaker reached for me, but he was smiling.EpilogueBreakerWe didn't end up in a ski resort in Canada.
No.
We ended up on a beach in Mexico.
And Alex bought the fuckin' skimpiest bikini she could find.
To prove a point.
Which we fought about.
And I, apparently, lost.
Because there she was, sitting her pretty little ass on a huge red and white striped beach blanket, in the red bikini that showed off almost half her ass and barely covered her tits.
It wasn't that she didn't look good.
She looked good.
Way too fuckin' good.
And other men noticed.
And those other men noticing made me want to gouge their fuckin' eyes out for looking at what was mine.
It was stupid that I still felt angry at seeing it. We had been south of the border for nearly six months. And she had worn the god damn thing every single day for six months. Beneath the red barely-there swatches of fabric, I knew her skin was the pale, flawless white it had been before. Outside of the material though, she had surprised me by tanning to a shade of flawless copper that gave her, with her dark hair and dark eyes, an almost exotic look.
