Adler (The Henchmen MC Book 14) Read online

  I thought as I reached for my plate and lowered myself down a thought I was sure I had never thought before.

  I really wish I had pants on.

  My concerns that he might know what was going on in my head disappeared as soon as Adler picked up his plate.

  Because, quite frankly, the man barely knew I existed as he plowed into his food.

  "Is this some old family recipe?" he asked, spearing a piece of steak off my plate.

  "You're risking a hand touching my food," I informed him, pulling my plate to balance it on the arm of the couch. "And, no. I just threw some stuff together. Glad it turned out alright."

  "Duchess, anytime ya want to throw some stuff together, ya let me know. And I'll pay ya back."

  "How so?" I asked, realizing the moment his eyes went devilish that I had made a mistake. "Ya know how I want to pay ya back. I'd get on my knees and pay ya back while ya are still fuckin' cookin' if ya want, duchess."

  Oh, for fuck's sake.

  I had been barely holding it together to begin with.

  Then he had to go on and say that. No, not just say it. Say it with fucking need in his voice, like he'd enjoy it every bit as much as I would.

  "I only cook on special occasions."

  "Duchess, every day we're breathing is a special occasion."

  "I don't... ooph," I grumbled as Linny came out of nowhere, leaping up onto my lap unexpectedly. "Well, hello," I greeted her, handing my plate off to an eager Adler - maybe the first time I had ever turned down a meal - so I had my hands free to rub her head, ears, belly.

  "Face it, Lou. We spend our lives around evil fucks. It's a miracle we're alive."

  "Evil is pushing it."

  "Ya don't believe in evil?"

  "I think evil takes a lot of forms. It's politicians passing laws to limit gay rights while getting fucked in the ass by one of his male interns. It's a Boy Scout leader who uses their power and trust to prey on the boys they are meant to teach. It's a cop who shows up when a woman calls about being raped, and rapes her again. It's judges handing out slaps on the wrists to men who assault women and children because of the negative impact it might have on the man's life. I think evil is something rooted inside people - not some mythological force whispering in our ears."

  "Not a fan of people, huh?"

  My lips curved up at that. "No, I don't like most people. Dogs, on the other hand," I went on, squeezing Linny's face a bit, "Dogs, I like."

  "For the most part, I agree with ya. So, ya like her?"

  "I love her," I corrected, sure I hadn't used that word - except maybe talking about eating food or kicking slimeball ass - in more than a decade. But there was no denying it. I loved the darn dog already. "Thank you," I added, feeling almost embarrassed to use the words, not sure when I was last in a position to be in someone's gratitude.

  "Sometimes ya gotta just jump right in before yer body is used to the temperature of the water."

  "And you're sure you can watch her for me here or there? You go out of town too."

  "Even if we are outta town at the same time, Rey will keep an eye on her for us."

  "She's the one with all the animals?"

  "Got a heart bigger than Texas. Likes to try to fill it up with furry, feather, or scaly things. And Reeve now, 'course."

  "Do you like it? Being a Henchmen?" I clarified.

  "It's almost like having a family."

  "And you've never really had one of those?" I guessed.

  "Had blood relatives, not family. It's why I know that birthdays alone suck, duchess. Even if ya try to tell yerself that they're no big deal."

  "I felt myself stiffen at that. "So, this was a pity-"

  I lost the rest of my sentence when Adler shifted. Fast. So fast that I barely even noticed the movement until it was over. But he turned, moved in closer, making Linny hop off me with a grumble as his hand moved out, pressing over my mouth, silencing me.

  "Sh." His hands were firm, but just to the point of discomfort. "Don't do that," he demanded. Or pleaded. Or a mix of the two. As odd as that was. "I get that ya are suspicious. I get that yer whole life revolves around fuckheads that make ya feel dirty just by being near 'em, that bullshite ya, and try to con ya. Lie to ya. But if there is one thing I can promise ya I won't do, it's lie to ya. Got that?" he asked, waiting until I gave him a nod. I could fight him off, we both knew that, but I somehow didn't want to. "Good. So ya know I ain't lying to ya when I say that the last fuckin' thing I feel toward ya is pity."

  His hand slipped, moving from my lips, but not dropping, sliding to my jaw. "What do you feel about me then?"

  "This," he told me a second before his lips claimed mine.

  They did that, too.

  Claimed.

  Branded.

  Took.

  Demanded.

  As if I had any defenses left at all with regard to him.

  The second his lips slanted over mine, my body was shifting on the couch, turning, facing him fully.

  I pressed up to my knees, crushing my chest to his, letting out a low whimper as my overly sensitive breasts met the hard line of his chest.

  A growl rumbled through him at hearing it.

  His hand left my jaw, and both slid down my back, sinking hard into my ass, yanking me forward, closing what little space was left between us, pulling me up onto his lap.

  My legs curled around his lower back, giving me just enough leverage to grind against him, moaning against his lips as his cock pressed into where I desperately needed him.

  He ripped away from me at the sound, watching my eyes as he dragged my pussy against him again, drawing another whimper out of me.

  "Yeah, duchess, that. That is what I have been feelin' about ya since the fuckin' moment I met ya."

  Unable to stop once I got the feel of him, finally, finally got the feel of him, I ground down on him again, my head crashing into his shoulder on a whimper as the need coiled deep in my belly.

  "Why the fuck ya been fighting this for so long, malishka?" he asked, the sound a low, raspy rumble that made my insides go liquid.

  "I don't know," I admitted in an airy whisper as my lips found the scruffy skin at his neck.

  "Ya done fightin' now?" he asked, hands slipping up to slide under my panties, his rough palms sinking back into my bare ass, fingers close, so, so fucking close to where I was dying for touch.

  "Yes," I groaned, teeth nipping into his earlobe.

  "Thank fuck," he growled, shifting suddenly, tossing me down on my back on the couch, his body coming over mine in an instant, head dipping to claim my neck like I had his, the roughness of his face guaranteeing a burn I would see and feel there for days after, reminding me of this, this feeling of rightness, of first time excitement - something I wasn't entirely sure I had ever experienced before.

  That was until a buzzing started in Adler's front pocket, just an inch away from a spot that would seriously solve my current predicament.

  He pushed up, looking down at me with heavy lids, an amused curve to his lips.

  "Think if I shift just a little..." he started to tease, but the phone stopped. Then picked up again in under three seconds.

  His brows creased.

  And through the fog of my own desire, I could sense it. Something was off.

  "Get it," I suggested, pressing him backward with my legs, trying to pretend it wasn't killing me to do so. "It might be important," I added, taking a slow, deep breath, trying to bring order to my chaotic system as he sat back on his heels, fishing his phone out of his pocket while his eyes showed me nothing but need and regret.

  "This better be..." he started to growl into the phone, cutting off abruptly, his face falling. "Ferryn?" he asked, his voice a choked thing, making me shift back, sit up, watch with a churning in my stomach that had nothing to do with desire. "I'm on my way," he agreed, ending the call.

  "Are you okay?" I asked, seeing something almost like desperation on his face, a look that did not belong on him.
>
  "The prez's daughter was just kidnapped," he ground out, frozen in place.

  "Oh, God." Kidnapping. Girls. This day and age. I knew enough about the ugly in the world to feel sick at the idea of a girl away from the protection of her family. "Adler, go," I demanded, nudging him with my foot. "You need to go."

  His eyes closed, sucking in a deep breath. "I know," he agreed. "I'm sorry, duchess. I wanted this to be different. It's yer bith..."

  "Fuck my birthday. Go. Help your brothers. Find the girl."

  I hopped up, moving with him as he made his way to the door in an odd sort of trance. "Are you okay?" I asked as we hit the door, something about his reaction, about the rawness in his face, making my pulse skitter. My hand moved out without even thinking, closing around his arm, a show of affection I could never be called known for.

  Seeming to sense it, his head turned, eyes landing on my hand for a long moment before rising to my face.

  "No," he admitted, then opened the door, and disappeared.

  I stood there for a long time watching the wood like it might burst open again until Linny moved with me, raising a paw to scratch at it, letting out a low whine.

  "I know the feeling, girl," I told her, reaching down to rub her wide head. "You wanna go for a walk?" I asked, taking a deep breath, hoping that maybe some exercise would ease the ache of unfulfilled desire. "Let me go get some pants on," I grumbled, moving off to do just that.

  Adler didn't return.

  Not that night.

  Or the next.

  Or the next.

  And as I lay in bed, re-watching his damn movie which was every bit as good as he claimed, I thought selfish things, things I had no business thinking.

  Like how long he would be gone.

  If he was thinking of me like I was thinking of him.

  If he was going to forget all about me.

  I sighed as Linny threw her body on top of mine.

  "Well, girl, I guess we have to go back to option A, huh?" I asked, rubbing her cheek. "You need to turn into a badass skip chasing dog. I don't think he is going to be around to make good on his couch potato promise to you."

  And so he didn't.

  --

  "How many fuckin' times I got to tell you not to bring that fuckin' mutt in here?"

  "The only fucking mutt in here is you, Geoff," I shot back, reaching across his desk to snag a nugget from his fast food meal, tossing it at Linny who snatched it out of the air, seeming to make a show of chewing it slowly, her focus on the man behind the desk. Like she knew what was going on. Like she understood her defiance.

  It had been a nice couple weeks with her.

  I had a buddy to go on my runs in the morning, to sit beside me in the car on the rides to other towns when I had jobs. So far, she'd been smart and loyal and adaptable, settling into our unusual version of life. She had no issues with hotel rooms. Or being on the road. Or being at home. Where we would sit on the couch, and I would pretend I wasn't listening for activity in the hall, across in his apartment.

  But there had been nothing.

  Judging by the way his mail piled up on the table up front, he hadn't been by at all.

  Which didn't bode well for Reign's daughter, a fact that made me feel guilty for wanting Adler to come back when I knew he was needed there more.

  "It's ridiculous, y'know?" I said to Linny as I tossed her a sweet & sour chicken out of the container. "I'm not that girl."

  And, truly, I never had been.

  The pining one.

  The one waiting on the bell to ring.

  The one who thought swirling, incessant, increasingly insecure thoughts as each day passed by.

  That wasn't me.

  I never gave men that much headspace.

  For good reason.

  For this reason.

  I was disgusted with myself.

  "I should just hit a bar, find a guy, and get laid already," I told Linny. Maybe it should have been weird that I talked to her so much, but she was there, and I swear she listened. Sometimes she even had input. A head tilt. Whine. Grumble. Even a snort or two on occasion.

  It wasn't great conversation, but it would do.

  It kept me from going crazy.

  Even if her presence was an ever-constant reminder of him as well.

  "You think you can hold down the fort?" I asked, glancing at the clock. It was late. Chaz's probably wouldn't even serve me. But if I hit up Meryl's, I could get a drink or two in me. In public. So I wasn't a lonely girl drinking in her apartment with her dog.

  Sure, Meryl's tended to serve a less than respectable clientele, and I had a better chance of finding a hot guy in a nursing home, but somehow, I was alright with that.

  I didn't want to get laid.

  Not really.

  Well, I did.

  But not with just any rando.

  As cheesy and romantic and absurd as it was to admit, I wanted it to be him.

  I threw on a pair of shorts, not bothering with any makeup or heels, and headed out toward Meryl's on foot, not sure how shitfaced I planned on getting.

  Meryl's was nothing to write home about, just a typical dive bar decor and clientele, but with a small liquor store up front, manned by a tall, thin woman with shoulder-length brown hair, a perfect face, and an attitude she wore around her like an old, beloved jacket. I hadn't ever shared more than a few comments with her since I had moved into town, but decided I liked her on principle. Maybe because of the way she dealt with the shitheads who frequented the place, getting sloppy, hitting on her. You had to respect a woman who so effortlessly handled herself.

  "It's sleazeball central," she called to me as a greeting as she shot off a text on her phone.

  "What else is new?" I shot back as I walked into the back, finding the bar, and about four guys in various states of fuckedupedness.

  "Well, look what we have here," one of them started, spotting me, slapping a hand into his buddy's rounded belly. "Honey, you are sight for..."

  "No," I cut him off as I pointed to the backbar at the bottle I wanted.

  "No, what, beautiful?"

  Ugh.

  Nothing skeezier than getting called beautiful by a man old enough to be your grandfather. His balls probably hung out the leg of his boxer shorts.

  Stifling a shudder, I reached for my drink, sniffing, then throwing it back.

  "No, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want you to talk to me. I want to have my drink in peace."

  "But it would be so much..." he started, trailing off when a small group of men moved in through the front to the back, blocking his view of me.

  Men.

  In leather cuts.

  Each one looking exhausted, defeated.

  I wanted to know. And I didn't.

  That was a new one for me.

  I always wanted to know, even if what I would learn was harsh and ugly.

  I was an old hand at harsh and ugly.

  But it wasn't my place to ask these men who didn't even know I existed.

  But then I saw him.

  Not that him.

  Not the him whose memory had been keeping me awake at night in his absence.

  But the other him.

  With the great skin and kind eyes.

  Roderick.

  "Roderick," I called before I could even think any better of it, making his head snap in my direction, recognition lighting his eyes momentarily, but not remaining, just defeat replacing it. "Que pasa?" I asked, watching as he sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

  "We found her," he offered, moving closer. "And she was alright. But..."

  "What happened?"

  "She ran away."

  "She ran away?"

  "Yeah, that's the reaction we all had," he agreed, nodding at my furrowed brows. "Got some people working on some leads, but this is Ferryn we're talking about here. I know you don't know her, but if she's got it in her head to get away without a trace, she can do it."

  "I'm sorry
, Roderick. That sucks."

  "Being helpless sucks," he agreed, accepting the beer that was offered to him.

  "Who's this?" one of the men behind him asked, tall, built, dark-skinned, the edge to his voice sending a very clear sign even to me. You shouldn't be talking to strangers about club business.

  "Virgin, this is Lou. Lou, this is Virgin."

  "Lou!" a female voice yelled from the front of the store, sounding both surprised and excited. Not a second later, the girl from the front appeared in the doorway, a tall, bearded man at her back. "You're Lou?" she asked, lips open, head shaking. "The Lou?"

  "I'm Lou," I agreed, saluting her with my drink.

  Her gaze flew to Roderick, eyes rolling. "You guys suck at giving descriptions. Maybe if you said The girl with the bullets tattoo I would have known exactly who you were talking about."

  "You know guys," I said, shrugging. "It's all tits and ass and hair when they talk about us."

  "Maybe not so much tit in my case," she allowed, waving at her rack as she moved over toward me. "The guys are going to need to drink this shit away tonight. Better if we just leave them to it," she informed me, claiming the stool next to mine as the bearded guy who'd come back with her got a round with his buddies. "Ferryn was the first Henchmen kid. They've all spent a lot of time with her. I'm new and even I have spent some time training her."

  "Oh, so you're someone's old lady?" I asked.

  "Ugh, what a term, right?" She asked, wrinkling her nose a bit. "Edison there belongs to me," she told me, raising her glass to the dark, bearded guy.

  "What do you mean 'training'?"

  "Martial arts. Some of the guys - and Lo, Janie, Maze, etc. - all have more experience than I do, but I worked with her too. Just to give her a rounded education. I'm taller than Janie. But a bit weaker than Lo. Ferryn is good. She's strong. She'll be able to take care of herself."

  "Any idea why she ran?" I asked when what I really wanted to know was - if all these guys were here, where was Adler? But I couldn't be that girl. That weak, pathetic, needy girl. No. Not me. Never.

  "No. It was a clusterfuck of a situation," she prefaced before launching into it, trusting me with it, even though it was clearly something meant to be a club secret. Maybe she thought my connection with Adler was more than it was. I should have corrected her, but quite frankly, just having a conversation with someone who was human - and not disgusting Geoff - was so needed that I didn't want it to end. "I'd say she was just in shock. Killing someone can do that..."