Hot Witness: A MacKenzie Family Novella Page 2

  “Love you too, Brandon,” she deadpanned.

  One of these days she’d go too far, but for now the leader of the Brothers of Sin only laughed. Evil, murdering bastard.

  “You let me know when you’re ready for some real lovin’, baby, and I’ll give it to you good and hard.”

  Not if she gave it to him good and hard first. And she wasn’t talking about sex.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Duke didn’t last another hour. Jake hadn’t expected he would anyway. The inside of the arm was tricky, and the man had already had a lot done that day. When he came strolling out into the yard, his face red with pain, Jake bit down a smart-assed remark.

  He’d only been back inside for a few days now, and he still wasn’t sure they trusted him. He hadn’t been suicidal enough to stroll into the compound where the Brothers hung out and worked on cars—and other illegal shit they kept hidden—and announce his return. Instead, he’d shown up at The Island, a bar the Brothers frequented. It was inside their territory and off limits to other gangs, though there was a mixture of lowlifes who frequented the bar and did business with the Brothers.

  He’d put on his cut, fired up his Harley, and drove right into their midst. Brandon had been waiting when he arrived, standing outside on the bar’s long porch and glaring like a motherfucker at the guy who dared to ride into BoS territory, wearing the colors and pretending to be one of them.

  But then Jake stepped off the bike and tipped his chin at Brandon with a cool, “Whassup, boss?”

  Brandon strode down the steps, his face showing his disbelief as some of the other Brothers gathered around. Some he recognized. Others he did not.

  “Jake Ryan? Fucking Jake Ryan?”

  They’d circled each other warily, and then Brandon came in for the bro hug, slapping him on the back as he squeezed tight.

  “What the fuck, dude?” Brandon had asked.

  Jake shrugged. “I did my time in the military. I want to come home.”

  It could have gone worse, that’s for sure. For now, Jake was in, his Special Ops career a source of pride for Brandon and the Brothers. No doubt they’d soon put him to the test, but he couldn’t worry about that yet. Right now, he had to figure out what Eva Gray knew and keep her safe until he could get her out.

  Jake strolled into the small studio where Eva had set up her machines. He’d been trained by the best of the best and he missed nothing. There was a bed behind a curtain and a hot plate on a counter. She lived as well as worked here, which was no surprise, considering how busy the Brothers kept her. With around eighty members, plus recruits and old ladies, she had plenty of work.

  She had her back to him, cleaning her machines. “Have a seat. I’ll be with you in a second.”

  He shrugged out of his cut and dragged his T-shirt over his head. The Brothers of Sin tattoo on his shoulder had faded over time. It wasn’t a particularly good one. He’d planned to have it removed or covered but he’d been too busy to get around to it. Some things were more important than erasing tattoos. Especially when those tattoos reminded him how easily his life could have been so different.

  He got in the chair and kicked back. His gaze dropped down her back, over her ass encased in tight jeans, down to her boots. He wasn’t surprised she was gorgeous. He’d seen the pictures.

  But he was surprised that she wasn’t an old lady by now. These dudes had to be salivating to make her theirs, so the fact she wasn’t yet committed to anyone spoke volumes about her determination to focus on her art.

  And yet that endangered her too, because if she really had witnessed the Brothers planning a hit on the judge, her life was forfeit the minute they decided to eliminate all the loose ends. She was fine for now because she was inside the compound and working—but if shit got real and the cops came calling, she was dead.

  Or would have been if he wasn’t here. Because he wasn’t letting that happen. He hadn’t spent the last seven years learning how to be a soldier, and then a badass black ops warrior in order to let a motherfucker like Brandon Cox get the best of him.

  Eva turned around and strode briskly over to him. Her eyes were a cool blue, and her hair was a dark, lush brown with golden highlights. She was sexy as fuck, that’s for sure. And she didn’t look too pleased to see him. He found that notion odd, but it’s what he felt in his gut.

  “How long you been here, babe?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she sat down and pulled her light in to look at his tattoo. “Long enough.”

  He let his gaze slide over the planes of her face, the set of her brow, and something tickled his memory. No idea what, because he wouldn’t have forgotten a woman like this one.

  “You remind me of someone.” He didn’t know where that had come from, but the instant he said it, her entire body stiffened. He’d gotten good at reading people in his line of work and what he read now was fear. Interesting.

  Her eyes met his, though he sensed it wasn’t an easy thing for her to do. “Try another line because that one won’t work.”

  He shrugged it off with a laugh. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  Because he didn’t want to rattle her when he was here to protect her. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

  “This thing’s faded a bit. Not a great job to begin with, I’d say.”

  “Nope, not really.”

  “I can fix it, but it’ll take some time. I need to do some sketches, figure how best to utilize what’s already there. Maybe we can add some elements behind it, make it pop. A confederate flag, maybe.”

  The idea of adding to the tattoo and making it even more prominent did not appeal. “No flags.”

  “All right, so we’ll do a skull or something. It’s your arm and your dime.”

  “How about we just pretty up what’s there and not worry about flags and skulls and shit?”

  Her lips flattened in annoyance. “Like I said, your arm.”

  The door burst open and Eva let out a little scream. Jake was on his feet in a split second, weapon drawn, protecting the woman behind him.

  Brandon Cox’s gaze flicked between them and his eyes narrowed. “Sorry, dude, but we’ve got a job to do. Need those special skills of yours. No time for tattoos.”

  Jake holstered the weapon and strode toward the door. “Then let’s go.”

  The party was in full swing in the yard. Eva peered out the door of her shop and looked at the bonfire flaring high in the center of the compound. The Brothers were drinking and yelling and doing all the wild shit they usually did during parties. The women were there too, of course. Hell, during parties like this, it wasn’t unusual to find a biker with a woman wrapped around him as he pressed her against a wall and fucked her out in the open.

  Eva blinked and shook her head and wondered yet again how Heather could have gotten involved with Brandon Cox in the first place. Heather had been a good girl, a cheerleader and a regular Sunday school attendee—and then she’d changed after high school, said she’d met a man and she was in love. The first time she’d come home on the back of Brandon’s bike, Mama had been horrified. So had Eva.

  Eva had been seventeen to Heather’s twenty then, and she’d been so naïve. A man covered in tattoos, bearded, packing heat, and looking meaner than a cornered snake had not been what she’d expected her sister to fall for. Eva hadn’t liked Brandon on sight.

  Unfortunately, she’d been right. She fisted the curtain she was holding and dropped it. She didn’t need to see what was going on out there. Earlier, when Brandon had come for Jake, they’d strode out into the yard and mounted up. Twenty-some odd Brothers had roared out of the compound, and she’d known they were up to no good.

  Her gut had twisted at the idea of Jake being involved—but why did she even care? He’d been in the military and he’d come back. If he came back to the Brothers of Sin, knowing what they were, he was no better than they were.

  But there’d been that moment when he’d said she seemed familiar and she’d nearly gasped. He’d rattled
her. She couldn’t afford to get rattled. She was on the inside after years of work—first to change her life and grow her art in a direction she’d never thought of before, then to get into this biker life and make it seem like she fit in.

  She did not fit in. These people horrified her, but she would do anything to prove that Brandon had murdered Heather. When her sister’s body was found on Christmas day seven years ago, the back of her head bashed in and bruises all over her skin, Eva had expected Brandon would be arrested soon after.

  He had been, but it hadn’t stuck. He’d had an alibi, but she had no doubt the Brothers had lied for him. They stuck together no matter what. Had Jake lied for him too?

  There was a knock on her door and her heart kicked up. She went over to the door and shifted the blind. Jake Ryan stood on the other side, and her belly tightened in response.

  She unlocked the door against her better judgement and opened it a crack. “What do you want? Shop’s closed for the night.”

  He held up a plate with BBQ pork on it. “Thought you might want something to eat.”

  She let her gaze slide behind him, scanning the crowd. “Brandon won’t like it if I let you in.”

  “Brandon is fucking his old lady in his room. He won’t know.” He turned and threw a look over his shoulder. “They’re too drunk and too happy to run tell him.”

  Eva knew she shouldn’t do it, but she opened the door so he could slip inside. She closed it quickly, locked it, and turned around, asking herself why in the hell she’d just done that. Why let him in? He was one of them and that made him the enemy.

  He’d been here when Heather was killed. That didn’t mean he knew anything…but what if he did? What if he’d been involved somehow?

  She walked over and took the plate from him. “Thanks,” she said as she sat down on one of the stools by her drawing table and took a bite of pork.

  “You could have come out and got some, you know.”

  “I don’t mix with the Brothers when they’re partying like that. Less chance of any misunderstandings.”

  “Meaning while drunk they’re likely to forget your rules, huh?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Yet you just let me in. What if I forget your rules?”

  She reached under the table and pulled out a loaded .45. “I think I can handle one on one.”

  He laughed, and she tried not to like the sound. “You’d be surprised, Eva. But the truth is you’re safe with me. I’m not one of them.”

  Her heartbeat sped up and her fork hovered in midair. “What does that mean?”

  He sat in the client’s chair and kicked his legs back, crossing them at his ankles. He smelled vaguely of leather and woodsmoke, and he looked almost clean-cut compared to the men outside that door. His hair was still short, for one thing, cut in a military style. And he didn’t sport many tattoos at all. Certainly nothing on his hands, which she knew was likely due to military rules.

  He had the beginnings of a beard, but the scruff on him was sexy. She kind of hoped he kept it the way it was now instead of letting it grow longer. And then she thought she really didn’t care. Jake Ryan wasn’t her type anymore, if he ever had been. He wasn’t safe, and she intended to find a safe man when she finally had her life back again.

  “It means I’m here because I was sent.”

  “Sent for what?”

  “For you.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  She grabbed her pistol and whipped it up to point at him. Jake didn’t flinch. She wasn’t going to shoot him. Not yet anyway. For one thing, it would bring what she least wanted: armed Brothers banging on her door. For another, she was smart and she’d want to know what he meant before she blindly pulled any triggers.

  Her blue eyes flashed fire and the tattoos on her skin made her look seriously badass. Yet the gun trembled ever so slightly, as if she was not as confident as she seemed.

  He studied her face, the planes and angles—and he knew he’d seen it before. He just didn’t know where. Or when. Maybe he’d known her when he’d lived in town before. Obviously not tatted up the way she was now—and maybe with different hair, too. It was an intriguing notion.

  “Who sent you?”

  “Declan MacKenzie.”

  She swallowed. “I don’t know who that is.”

  “I think you do. Even if you haven’t met him before, you know who he is. You’ve heard the name.”

  “I hear a lot of names.”

  He leaned forward, staring hard at her. Hoping she got the message. “You’re in danger here, Eva. You’re a loose end. You know too much and Brandon isn’t going to let you live just because he likes your art.”

  “I don’t know anything.”

  “Who called in the tip on Judge Mason?”

  She couldn’t hide the way her face drained of color, or the way the gun wavered for a second. He could disarm her. Probably should. But he didn’t move. He let her process it.

  “You’re a Brother. You’ve been a Brother since you were eighteen.”

  A sharpness pierced his gut. “How would you know that?”

  Her eyes were wider than before. The gun dropped to her side and she lowered her head. “I just do. You’re one of them. You came back. Brandon said so today.”

  “I came back for you, Eva. And because Judge Mason saved my life.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t leave here. I can’t.”

  He got up and went over to her, put a hand on her arm. His skin tingled at the touch, but he didn’t draw back. She was lovely. It was no surprise he was attracted to her. And yet he felt something else too. It was a flame inside him. Not just a sexual flame, but one that spoke of warmth and belonging as well. Things he hadn’t ever felt before. Not the kind of belonging where you loved your job and knew it was the only one for you. The human kind. The kind you felt with another person.

  “You can’t stay either. It’s dangerous.”

  She tossed her hair defiantly. He dropped his hand away, but his fingers still itched to touch her. “In case you haven’t noticed,” she said, “this is a biker compound. You don’t just waltz out when you feel like it. And if you think Brandon’s not going to do anything if you roll out of here with me on the back of your bike, then you’re wrong.”

  That much was true, but he’d deal with it when the time came.

  “Why are you here? You don’t like these guys.”

  “Of course I like them. They pay me.”

  He didn’t believe her. He recognized contempt when he saw it, and she had it in spades. “You’ve been calling the FBI.”

  She swallowed. “Not me. No idea what you’re talking about.”

  He stepped back and sank onto the chair again. But he didn’t lean back. Outside, the party was in full swing. It was loud, with music and talk and the revving of engines from time to time.

  “You used your own phone. Dangerous, but also probably the best option unless you can get into town and find a pay phone somewhere.”

  She put the gun back where she’d gotten it from. He took that as a good sign. Then she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair for a second. When she opened them, her gaze was cool and clear.

  “I overheard some things about Judge Mason, yes. The Brothers sit in my chair and talk like I’m not here, but I listen. Brandon’s nephew is on trial for attempted murder in Atlanta, in case you weren’t aware, and Judge Mason was the presiding judge. He’d already made some rulings in the case that were unfavorable—so Brandon got the idea that it was time for Mason to go. Brandon talked about hiring someone to install malware into the judge’s car. This guy was supposed to program it to cut the power to the brakes once the car reached a certain speed.”

  “So who’s the guy? Do you know?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t, not really. All I heard was the name Snake. A hacker of some sort, I imagine. Any hackers turn up dead lately?”

  She said it half-jokingly, but he knew she wasn’t joking at all.

  �
��I don’t know. I’ll have to ask Declan to check it out. Is there anything else you can think of?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know anything for certain. All I know is Judge Mason had a car accident and Brandon had talked about making it happen. I can’t prove it. It could just be a coincidence.”

  “But you called the FBI.”

  She twisted her fork in the food but didn’t eat anything else. “Because I believe he did it. I can’t prove it, but I believe it. It’s just my word against his—against all of theirs, because none of the Brothers will admit it’s true. They stick together no matter what.”

  She sounded bitter.

  “So tell me again why you’re here, Eva. Why do you stay?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  He sat back again, studying her. There was definitely something about her that tickled his memory. But what?

  “If I were to ask the MacKenzies to dig into Eva Gray’s background, what would they find?”

  Her gaze was cool. “You tell me.”

  “I think they wouldn’t find much of anything.”

  “Not worth the trouble then, huh?”

  He stood. He’d been here long enough. It was time to get back to the party before Brandon missed him.

  “Probably not, sugar.” He started toward the door, but stopped and turned back to her.

  Then he hauled her up into his arms and kissed her.

  Eva’s heart beat like a wild thing. Her fingers curled into Jake’s cut and her mouth, after the initial shock, slipped open. His tongue found hers, slid against it, encouraged her to kiss him back.

  She did. Ravenously. In the back of her head, she kept telling herself this had to stop, that she did not need to encourage him. It was crazy to encourage him. Not to mention she had no clue what to do with him if she did.

  But he tasted so good, a little like beer, a little like mint. His body against hers was hard and big, but he didn’t scare her. He should because he was a badass biker and she didn’t like that type, but he didn’t.

  She was still processing what he’d told her about coming here for her. He hadn’t figured out who she really was, which was probably a good thing. If he knew she was Heather Collier’s little sister—the shy, plump, mousy little sister who’d smiled shyly at him and mooned over him when he’d been in her class—well, he wouldn’t be kissing her like this, that’s for sure.