After a round of drinks with Thomas’s arm draped around my shoulder, protecting and claiming me all at once, the group decided to head out for the night. Parties were happening all over Daytona, and they had club business to attend to before they hit the sack.
“She’s riding with me,” Tommy declared as we walked outside and were greeted by the thick, humid Florida air that smelled like the ocean.
“Whatever you say, brother,” Rebel conceded as he threw a leg over his bike.
“Where’s Flash?” I asked, looking around one last time for him.
“Fuck Flash, darlin’,” Tommy snarled, holding out the helmet to me.
“But—” I started to speak but saw his lips set in a firm line as he glared at me.
“He’s been sent off to do club business with some other members.” He shoved the helmet in my hands. “Get the fuck on. We don’t have time for your bullshit girl stuff,” he barked, turning around and starting the bike.
The roar of the engine made me jump, and I quickly put on the helmet and pulled the straps tight. Climbing on the bike, I realized that this would be the last time I’d touch my brother for months. The guys took off just as I nestled myself behind him.
When the roar of the bikes and the distance between them and us was sufficient, Thomas turned to me and smiled. “Make the call, Izzy. Love ya, kid,” he said before turning around and quickly taking off, hot on the tail of the other guys.
I hit dial, ringing James’s phone to alert him that we’d left the bar. Thomas had said that James would stop us shortly after leaving the bar, and he’d had me put a baggie of cocaine in my pocket. James would do a search for some bullshit reason and place me under arrest.
Daytona was crawling with cops and DEA during Bike Week. Undercover, I presumed, since I didn’t see a crazy amount of police presence, especially not with the amount of bikers that flooded the city during the event.
Rebel led the pack and we pulled up the rear. Tommy had wanted it that way, figuring it would be easier to be pulled over by James. I tried not to think about what was about to happen as I held on to him, taking in all that was my big brother—strong, kind, caring, and protective.
He’d made me laugh as a little girl, holding on to my hands and twirling me in the air like I was a blade of a fan. My mother would scream, but Tommy and I would just laugh and collapse in a heap of giggles. His face had been softer then; the years of undercover work and biker-life wear and tear hadn’t yet entered his life. I wondered if he could ever go back to that fun-loving, carefree guy again. I hoped he would, but living this life had to alter you in some form and stick with you for the rest of your days.
My heart stammered in my chest as the sound of police sirens filled the air. I opened my eyes, the red and blue lighting bouncing off of Tommy’s jacket. I gave him a squeeze as he slowed the bike and waved off the rest of the guys.
We pulled off to the side of the road as the police cruiser stopped behind us. The lights continued to flash, but the screeching siren noise turned off before I heard a car door slam.
“Sir,” the familiar voice said as he approached us.
The sound of his voice alone had my pussy clenching. Fucking cunt had always been a problem. I didn’t like James. It needed to cool its fucking jets and not think about his cock. James wasn’t the man I wanted…I couldn’t top him.
Thomas sat still, peering in his side mirror until James came to a stop at our side. The others were far enough away, leaving us behind to deal with the cop issue.
“Get her the fuck out of here. Blow is in her left jacket pocket.”
“Hey, Iz,” James slithered out as he slowly looked me up and down.
I lifted my chin, staring him in the eye without a smile. “Jimmy,” I replied, the corner of my lip twitching.
God, he looked fucking good. No, good wasn’t the right word. He looked fucking amazing dressed in the law enforcement uniform. The brown dress shirt hugged his muscles, looking like a second skin against his tan flesh. The shitty polyester pants the force handed out clung to his muscular thighs, showing off every dip and crevice in his body. The gun sitting around his waist reminded me that he wasn’t a man to be crossed, though I liked to push his buttons. He could easily overpower me, and for some reason, the thought turned me on.
His jaw ticked as I spoke his name. He hated when I called him Jimmy, said it reminded him of a child. I’d used it to only piss him off, crawl under his skin like he had mine.
Tommy handed over his license and registration, shoving it in James’s hand as he openly gawked at me.
James turned his attention to Thomas and cleared his throat. “What the hell are you going to tell them?” he asked, motioning toward the red taillights off in the distance.