Bounty:Fury Riders MC(14)

I shook my head. No way I could let this happen. I couldn't fall any  farther. So what if his eyes were so beautiful I could hardly keep from  staring into them? Or if his arms were so strong? Of if the thought of  him protecting me made me a little bit wet? I couldn't let him get into  my head. It wasn't right.



Back to the camera. I needed to get out of there, fast.



I thought back to the idea of wedging something inside. I couldn't pull  the outer case apart far enough to un-jam the switch, and I couldn't  manage to push it open with my bare hands. I had to try something new.



I looked around the desk for something to use and found a letter opener  in one of the drawers. I took the rounded handle, which was just thin  enough to slide in, and wedged it inside. Then I twisted it slightly. No  use. I would need another pair of hands.



As much as I hated doing it, I stuck my head outside the door. There was  Vince, sitting by the bar, talking to a couple of the guys. One of them  saw me, the big guy-Axel? He got Vince's attention and nodded toward  me. I thought I saw a bit of a smirk on his face, but it seemed good  natured enough, so I let it go.



"Could you come here for a minute? I need your hands."



Bad choice of words, and I knew it almost as soon as they left my mouth.  I heard a lot of whistling and jeering when I slinked back into the  office, my face flaming hot. When Vince came in, he was biting back a  smile.



"You needed my hands?" I looked at him sharply, and he laughed. He had  tried, at least, to keep it inside. I had to give him credit for that.



I showed him what I was trying to do, and he understood quickly. "So  I'll sorta pull the two sides apart, to give you room to slide the  switch back."



"Exactly," I said. The only problem was, the work required us to be very  close to one another. He took the camera in his hands, placing it on  the desk. I bent over, wedging the letter opener into the slot. He  smelled incredible-aftershave, soap, leather. It was such a heady  combination, I could hardly think straight.



"Got it?" I asked, and I saw the front and back halves of the camera's  case pull slightly apart as his large hands made easy work of it. I  turned the letter opener, forcing the switch back with a satisfying  click. The memory card was there! I pressed it in, and it popped out at  me.



"We did it!" I looked up at him, and our faces were so close I stopped  breathing for a second, and I took in the nearness of him. It felt like  my heart stopped beating. All there was in the world was him. I thought I  would drown in his eyes.



His mouth was so close to mine. It wouldn't take anything for me to lean  toward him so slightly and brush my mouth against his. What then? What  would we do? Maybe he would lay me out across the desk and take me here.  Maybe we would sink to the floor, tearing each other's clothes off.  Maybe we would never come out of this room.



I heard my heart thudding in my ears and wondered if he could hear it, too. So close. I felt his breath on my face …



Then there was a crash from the bar, and a smattering of sarcastic  applause. It was enough to stop the moment in its tracks. I pulled away,  feeling a little woozy. Like I'd just woken up from a long nap. I took a  deep, shaky breath.



"Here you are," I said, handing the card over. "Use it in good health."



He looked at it, so small in his hand. "Come on," he said, pulling out  the laptop he'd given me. "Let's find out who we're dealing with."



I balked. "Me? You're sure you want me here when you look at those pictures?"



"Why not?" He popped the memory card into the machine. "Don't you want to know who's been causing you all this trouble?"



A grim smile came over my face. Trouble wasn't even the word for it. "Yeah. I do."





Chapter Ten





Vince





Erica came around to my right side, leaning over as I clicked through to the memory card.



"Thank God it made it through without breaking," she murmured. "Those  things are strong. I have a few shots on there I'd like to save. You  know, once this is all over."



I started going through them, but I didn't see anything helpful. Some  kids playing jump rope, dogs at the park. "Where's the stuff I'm looking  for?"



She snorted. "They would be the last files, Vince." She pulled the mouse  from my hand and started navigating. I didn't even care that she was so  rough with me. I was intensely aware of her so close to me. She smelled  like powder and shampoo and perfume, even though she'd spent the night  here and hadn't showered yet. She still had a clean, fresh smell. She  was warm. I looked up out of the corner of my eye and saw the pulse  beating in her throat. I was almost overcome by the urge to kiss her  there.         

     



 



I gave myself a mental shake and turned to the screen. Now she was going  through the photos she'd taken the night before. They were all in black  and white. "Wow," I said. "You're pretty good."



"You think so?" she asked, glancing down at me before looking at the screen again. Her face went pink.



"Definitely. You see things. Not everybody sees things. Like,  opportunities for photos. I would see a homeless guy, some kids eating  pizza, whatever. But you see something totally different." I admired her  eye, having never had any talent myself. Even though I didn't have it, I  could appreciate it.



"Thanks," she murmured. Then she clicked over to the next image. "Okay," she said. "Here's the alley."



I looked at the photo, and right away I saw what she meant about them  being perfectly lit. Why did they have to practically pose under that  light? She would have walked past them.



"See? That's the guy," she said, pointing. "He's the one who chased me."



"Yeah, that's him, all right," I said, remembering his face in front of me. "Before I broke his goddamned nose, the fucker."



She snorted. "Yeah, before that." She clicked over to the next photo. "This is a better one. You can see both of them."



She was right-I could see them both. And it felt like the bottom dropped  out from under my world. My stomach had that weird rollercoaster  feeling, though I was sitting still.



"Wait." I put my hand over hers, holding the mouse still. "Just wait."



"I think I got a better shot … "



"No!" I didn't mean to shout, and she jumped back when I did. It was  just …  "I'm sorry," I whispered, staring at the screen. "You have no idea  what I'm looking at here." I couldn't believe it myself, and hoped I  was making a huge mistake.



"Who is it?"



"Somebody who's supposed to be dead." I heard her gasp, but still  couldn't tear my eyes from the screen. It made no sense. How could it  be?



"Who is it?" she asked.



"His name was-is-Lance." I looked at her, finally out of shock enough to  look away from the picture. "Probably was, again, by now. If he was  stabbed, like you said."



"I don't understand," she said, moving closer again. "What do you mean he was supposed to be dead?"



"He was one of my men who were supposedly killed last week," I  explained. She gasped again. "There was an explosion in a warehouse  where my guys were picking up a shipment of drugs. Three bodies were  found, charred beyond recognition. One of the bodies had this big, old  class ring on its finger. Lance's ring. We assumed it was Lance, and  didn't ask for dental records. He didn't have any family."



My world was spinning out of control. The implications of this were  disastrous. If Lance hadn't been killed that night at the warehouse, it  meant he was working with the Wolves. They probably killed the other two  and staged it to make it look like an explosion. The third body was  some random person with Lance's ring on his hand. And the building was  blown up.



"He had to be laying low," I said, pacing the room now. Erica watched,  and I could tell from the way she chewed her cuticles that she was  scared to death. "They must have found somewhere else for him to live,  some safe house. God, he was with them the entire time. How long? How  much did he tell them? What did they offer him?" I was close to one of  the walls, and punched it. My fist nearly went clear through the  drywall. Erica yelped.



"Motherfucker!" I screamed, punching the wall again. "How could he do it? What the fuck was he thinking?"



I looked at her like she could give me an answer. Of course, she  couldn't. She'd never met Lance. She didn't know how tight we were  supposed to be. I'd known him since the day I joined the club ten years  earlier. We were both kids then. We grew up together. And he betrayed  me.



"What the hell am I gonna do?" I went back to the computer, wishing I  was wrong. But there was no question. It was him. Same long hair, same  goatee, same slightly hooked nose. He was even wearing his kutte, the  son of a bitch. How dare he. After betraying the club the way he had. He  couldn't let it go.