CHAPTER TWO

– LEONTINE –

Frustrating asshole. I let my gaze wander across the table where he’s removing the Blennies Hitch patches from his leather vest by using his knife. I gave him the stuff he needed to put the Broken Deeds patches on and took a seat across the table.

I just fired up my laptop when Veloz rumbles, “Why don’t you give me a rundown on the case we’ll be working on?”

“Why don’t you swallow a cup full of crickets and chirp away,” I want to tell him, but instead I act as if I don’t hear him.

The way I saw him checking me out with interest earlier, I assumed he wanted to have sex. It’s the only reason I was straightforward, and it…I can’t say escalated, more like evolved from there on out. Here I thought bachelors didn’t care about chicks they have sex with. Well, unless they find the perfect old lady.

Get to know me? Yeah, right. He’s just keeping me at a distance because he doesn’t want anything interfering with his place within the brotherhood. I shouldn’t have suggested we have sex, but catching a hint of lust directed at me was enough for me to offer it.

I remember all too vividly when Peter Vorstad, a serial killer, captured me, stripped me naked, and started playing with his knife. Regrets burned just as deep as the knife slicing through my skin that I was going to die a virgin. No taste of sex, a lustful manly touch, or love all because of the protectiveness of my twin, and the brothers of the MC I was raised in.

“Lea,” Veloz rumbles.

My glare becomes more prominent. “It’s Leontine.”

He doesn’t even blink and simply places his knife down to reach for the Broken Deeds patches when he says, “Presley Leighton. Do you think he’s the one who framed me and then died?”

“Yes, and no,” I clip and find the image on my laptop so I can show it to him. “This is Elora Espina’s driver, Seymour Wallace.”

I can tell by the slight widening of his eyes that Veloz instantly noticed what also caught my attention when I started working on this case.

“Their similarities made me curious, especially with everything that happened after the mission went to shit. So, yes, I do think he’s the one who framed you, but no…I don’t think he died.”

“He staged his fucking death,” Veloz rumbles in a low tone.

I nod. “That’s my assumption. I’ve also found something that might have triggered it all.”

Veloz rounds the table, his leather cut forgotten as he takes a seat next to me. Turning the laptop to face him, I show him the details of a woman whose death was first ruled as a suicide but then changed when her parents asked the authorities to look at the circumstances.

“Her injuries could easily be sustained during her fall from the cliff. Except, she had petechiae to the left eyeball and ear canal. There were more injuries, but as I mentioned, they could have also been from the fall. Her parents confirmed she had a relationship with Presley up until three weeks before her death. The woman broke it off between them because he was abusive. The parents wanted her to press charges, but she didn’t because she wanted a clean break and told him to leave her alone otherwise she would press charges.”

“Where did you get all this information?” Veloz asks.

Shrugging, I let him know, “No stone stays unturned when it comes to us. We can use any possible option we need to gain justice. When I checked out every member of your team, he was the one with potential skeletons in his closet, so I dug a little deeper. Then I found the diplomate daughter, the girl you kept mentioning, and read about her death.”

“She’s dead?” Veloz grunts in surprise.

A few keystrokes let me bring up the newspaper article. “Elora Espina had an unfortunate fall down a flight of stairs and broke her neck.”

“Let me guess,” Veloz rumbles. “Same scenario as the girl you mentioned.”

“Bingo.” I refrain from smiling, but it’s nice to hear him thinking ahead the way Asher and I always finish one another’s sentences. “Someone covered their tracks. With two of the SWAT team dead, and you relieved of duty because they didn’t have any evidence to contradict your words, but also couldn’t prove what the hell happened, they simply buried the whole incident. Maybe Elora Espina’s father pulled some strings, had connections to make that happen, I don’t know. What I do know is that the gun found at the scene, the one with the serial number filed off, that your teammate used to kill the hostage is missing. There are only documents stating–”

“That the hostage’s fingerprints were on there. I know,” Veloz states. “We were all wearing gloves. The hostage handed the gun to Reed, my teammate. The hostage was just as surprised as I was when Reed pulled the trigger, killing the hostage in cold blood, then pointed the gun at me. I only had a split second, but it was him or me.”

“You made the right choice,” I state. “I found a link between the hostage and Elora. Text messages that showed she was more than friends with him. My theory is that she’s probably the one who worked with Presley, the mastermind behind the whole thing. Our first move should be to look into the ID of the driver. I’m almost positive Presley took his identity, but I haven’t been able to get confirmation. Hopefully, we will get some more answers as to what exactly went down during that hostage situation, and more importantly, why.”

Veloz nods and when he gets to his feet he states, “To be honest? I don’t care about the why and how. It’s enough to finally have more than just my Blennies Hitch brothers having my back. More people now know the shit that went down wasn’t right, and that I’m not a killer in the sense of taking an innocent’s life.”

I find myself reaching out to touch his forearm and firmly tell him, “You were doing your job.”

He grins and my breath catches.

Regaining his task to put the Broken Deeds patches on his cut he rumbles, “That right there collides with my soul, Lea. I was doing my damn job and was crucified for it. No more. No. Fucking. More. And now I get to see if the fucker who framed me is still alive so I can kill him with my bare hands.” His gaze hits mine. “I am allowed to do that, right?”

“If we have proof he’s still alive when he’s supposed to be dead, and resists us bringing him in. Otherwise, we have to lock him up.” I shrug. “Though, if you do kill him? You’ll be the one filling out the report because it’s a fucking pain in the ass to do the paperwork when the suspect turns up dead. Or so I’ve heard.”

Veloz chuckles, the sound is rich and vibrant. I’m completely enthralled and can only stare at him. Shit. So much for ignoring him. How could I be stupid enough to suggest we’d have sex right after I opened up my home for him? Ugh. I’m a first-class idiot.

The front door bursts open and my father stomps into the house, my mother trailing in behind him.

I groan and mutter, “Shit. Here we go.”

“Leontine,” my father bellows.

My vision is blocked when I’m suddenly facing Veloz’s huge back.

“Chopper, I presume,” Veloz states. “And Ivy, your old lady, pleased to meet you both.”

My father takes his outstretched hand, and I can tell by the way he grinds his teeth that he’s trying not to flip his shit.

“Veloz Bishop, I’ve heard a lot about you. Especially about the mix-up when it comes to living arrangements,” my father grits.

A sigh rips from me. “There is no mix-up.”

“Your father and I don’t think it’s wise–” my mother starts.

“With all due respect, you two,” Veloz grits in a harsh tone before he somewhat makes his voice a little less hostile when he adds, “Your daughter is a grown woman. A brilliant one who suffered recent trauma, but is handling herself pretty damn good. Lea and I have an understanding, and I have nothing but respect for her, and the rules we set in place.”

I know about the understanding he mentioned…but what freaking rules is he talking about?

“Her fucking name is Leontine,” my father practically snarls.

A deep sigh rips from me once again and I mutter, “He knows, Dad. Something about Leo for short, the lion reference, but it sounds too manly so he tweaked it to Lea. Believe me, I tried to correct him more than once. He’s persistent.”

Okay, twilight zone emerged because my father is chuckling and my mother is wearing a huge grin.

“I hear you have a speedboat,” my father suddenly quips as if they weren’t about to drag me out of my own house and make me live with them for the time being.

Veloz and my father are engrossed in a conversation about technicalities I don’t even want to know the details of when my mother steps closer.

“Is he nice? He seems nice. He’s not rude, is he? Your father made Archer call Veloz’s former president, Perrin, to ask if he’s a player. Just so you know, he’s not. Perrin mentioned Veloz hasn’t had a relationship in all the years he was a part of his MC. Do you like him? Is that why you offered him to stay at your house?”

I blink at the rapid load of information and questions my mother fires at me.

“The rooms at the clubhouse are all spoken for.” I shrug, acting indifferent. “Asher just moved out, and we’re working on a case together. It made sense to have him as a roommate.”

My mother hums and pulls out her phone. She’s furiously tapping the screen and I suddenly realize what she’s doing.

I groan and then ask, “Please tell me you’re not texting Lynn.”

She shoves her phone back into her pocket and tells me in an innocent tone, “Okay, then I won’t tell you.”

I don’t get the weird turnaround of my parents and it only annoys me at this point. “Okay, Veloz and I need to leave. He has to pick up a few things and then we’re going to check out a lead in our case.”

“Sure, sure,” my father rumbles and smacks Veloz on the shoulder. “See you around, son.”

My mother shoots me a wink and follows my father out the door. Normally she would hug me, but ever since Peter carved me up, I’ve put a wall in place. First it was due to my memory loss. Time passed and it was just easier to keep everyone at a distance.

“It’ll only take me a few more minutes to get the patches on,” Veloz tells me and gets busy with his leather cut.

I grab my laptop and shove it into one of the drawers of the desk in the corner of my living room. Leaving Veloz to it, I head for the bathroom to pee. I’m washing my hands while I stare at myself when the harsh memories unwillingly slide through my head.

Every scar on my face, and my neck, along with each and every part of my body that Peter carved up I remember very vividly. The words he spoke, how dirty I felt, the helplessness, the pain, the way my blood seeped out of me along with every inch of dignity and self-esteem.

A virgin mutilated so no sane man would ever look at me with desire, lust, or love. I swallow hard and close my eyes, willing the memories to shrivel up and go back into the box I put them in. I’m holding onto my head by wrapping my arms around it, knocking myself against the wall in an effort to grasp onto reality.

I can’t breathe. My lungs burn and the threat of darkness swallowing me whole has a whimper falling over my trembling lips. Strong hands are suddenly gripping my wrists and tear my head free.

“Look at me, Lea,” a voice rumbles.

There is no ability to form words. The panic I feel has tipped over and rendered my body unable to regain control.

“Motherfucker,” the voice growls, and I can feel my body being lifted off the ground.

My face is pressed against soft leather. The scent of it along with an ocean breeze mixed with spice, and something all Veloz assaults me and slowly brings me back to reality.

“How many panic attacks do you still have to endure these days?” Veloz softly asks.

My body sags against his and I allow myself to feel safe in this man’s arms, knowing the cause of these panic attacks was from a serial killer who is no longer able to harm anyone because he’s dead.

“Mostly at night,” I admit.

“Let me guess, you’ve been hiding all of it from everyone. Staying strong behind the lie of making them believe you don’t remember shit.”

I keep quiet. There’s no need to confirm what he just stated; we both know it’s the truth.

“Do you have ice cream?” he suddenly asks.

I pull back and glance up at him warily. “Ice cream?”

“Yeah, darlin’, ice cream. Chocolate would help as well, maybe some fancy-ass iced coffee. You need sugar after what your body just endured.”

“I know that,” I grumble. “But no, I don’t. I didn’t go shopping.”

He stands and takes me with him to gently put me on my feet. “Okay, then we’re going to get something at a drive-thru. We’ll get my shit after that and then go grocery shopping before we come back here. I assume you mentioning the lead we need to check out was a bullshit line to get your parents out of here?”

“Yeah,” I croak.

“Thought so. Then we’ll stick to my plan and when we get back here, we’ll order pizza and eat on the couch while going through the case. Maybe put a movie on as background noise, I’ll even let you pick the movie, how’s that?”

I snort. “Only because it’s background noise.”

The grin he gives me makes my belly flop.

“Come on, let’s hit the road,” he suggests and I quickly brush past him to grab my keys.

Holding them out I ask, “Do you want to drive?”

Opening the door, I point out my vehicle and chuckle when I hear him rumble, “Fuck, yeah, if that’s your ride. Damn, woman.”

“Hennessey Goliath 700. A Sierra 1500 Denali with four-wheel drive. Supercharged. Last year I overheard Asher talking to a dealer. They had a black one, but the shithead wanted a red one. He was still debating if he should wait for a red one when I called the dealer and bought the black one, taking his choice away.” I grin. “I remember how pissed he was. My father told him to quit whining because Asher refused to talk to me for a full day.”

Veloz rumbles out a laugh as he takes the keys. “Do you always torment your brother like that?”

I get into the passenger seat while Veloz gets behind the wheel when I answer, “Most times we try to outdo the other.” I turn my head to stare out the window. “Everything is always a competition between us.”

“Stressful to set the standards high all the time,” Veloz muses and ups his voice when he adds, “Fuck, that’s a sweet sound. I’d rather ride my bike than be inside a cage, but now that I know you have this sweet ride? I’ll be snagging your keys more often.”

I snort. “You can try.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Lea.” He shoots me a quick grin before directing his eyes back on the road.

Shame he doesn’t see me roll my eyes when I tell him, “I shared a womb with an idiot who underestimated me, starting at birth where I beat him by two minutes. He’s been eating my dust ever since. Though, he does have the stupidity to let me win sometimes. I hate it when he does that, but I guess he won’t be doing that any time soon again. He blames himself for what happened to me because he let me win…if he didn’t, I wouldn’t have been there for Peter to kidnap me.”

I direct my gaze out the window once more and try to focus on the scenery flashing by and not the reminder of that horrific day.

“You two would still be upping one another if everything went smooth sailing that day,” Veloz states.

My head whips his way but he’s slowing down the truck to order some stuff.

“Did you know he let me win that day?” I ask when we receive our order.

I’m curious because he doesn’t seem all that surprised by my admittance.

“Eat a pastry and drink your coffee,” he rumbles. “I’ve heard you two played rock, paper, scissors. Asher feels guilty because he let you win so you took lead and were taken. Though, the way you two interact would have resulted in splitting up sooner or later. Keeping focus while having that drive to outdo someone else in the back of your mind can work against you. It isn’t a healthy situation for anyone. Asher is a great addition to Blennies Hitch from what I’ve heard. He saved my former prez’s old lady, took charge when Rox was missing, and is handling his shit perfectly. The short time I’ve been in your presence I can already tell you’re obviously cut from the same cloth. Hell, you were able to do what no one could do for me in fucking years. Both of you excel in your own way. And doesn’t it put more pressure on you to watch your tongue and keep everyone thinking you don’t remember anything? ’Cause the funny shit you told me earlier about how you sneaked behind Asher’s back to buy that vehicle made your whole face light up.”

A deep sigh rips from me. “They would expect me to talk about it, make it worse by giving me more sad and sympathetic looks. I hate feeling weak. I just want to leave it in the past and move on.”

“Like nothing happened?” Veloz asks, and the way he states it makes me feel as if he’s luring me into a trap.

Yet, I find myself nodding while taking a sip of an overly sweet caramel macchiato.

“Sorry, darlin’, but that ship won’t sail. Shit did happen and the scars in your brain won’t heal if you ignore it and let them fester. Your skin is healing all on its own because your body is doing the work after the wounds were cleaned, stitched, and so on. You need to do something similar to the ones inside your head.”

I’m about to snarl for him to mind his own business when he adds, “Everyone heals in their own way. Your way might work for you, but it’s a long road with demons you need to slay. Anytime I can help in whatever makes you comfortable, I’m game. Sex might be a good way to get your mind off things. If I fuck you long and hard enough you might just be too tired to think of anything that might upset you.”

My jaw drops while he simply smirks and holds up his coffee as if to say, “Cheers” before taking a sip.