Riding Temptation

Page 3

She grinned. “You know it.”
Grange wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Be careful.”
She nodded. “I will.”
She stowed her bag, climbed onto the bike, and fired it up, her entire body vibrating to the thrum of the engine. The immense power between her thighs never failed to turn her on. That Diaz had gifted her with this bike was more than she could fathom. Why had he done this? It wasn’t that much of an inconvenience to gas up more frequently. Her 883 would have sufficed. But this new bike? It was heaven. She wasn’t going to complain.
She’d find an appropriate way to thank him.
They took off, and she waved to Grange as they pulled down the long drive and through the gates. The Sportster had a lot of power behind it—much more than her smaller bike had. She had to rein in the urge to let the throttle out and see what this baby could really do. Especially while they were still within the confines of Dallas city limits. Instead, she followed Diaz, with Spence behind her, obeying the speed limit as they moved through the city. They took the highway the entire way, so no enjoying of scenery, just weaving in and out between cars and semis.
It didn’t matter. Jessie had a new bike, the wind in her face, the hum of the engine surrounding her, and she got to watch Diaz’s back in front of her, which gave her hours of uninterrupted time to ponder. And she had plenty to think about.
Like why he’d question her ability to handle this case one minute, and the next buy her a brand-new bike—one with some muscle behind it. If he had no confidence in her, why reward her with something like this beautiful machine?
And what was up with his sudden attention, when previously he hadn’t seemed to care what she did, or even paid attention to her when she was around? It wasn’t even like he was acting as a father figure—so not Diaz’s style anyway. No, it was more than that. Something different, intriguing. Exciting. Yet he acted as if he was irritated with her.
The man made her crazy.
Diaz signaled for them to pull over at a combination gas station/restaurant, which was a good thing because Jessie was getting hungry. She climbed off her bike, leaned back to stretch her legs, and watched Diaz frown over her shoulder.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He wasn’t looking at her, so she pivoted, saw two guys in a pickup leering and elbowing each other.
“What were they doing?”
“From what I could tell, checking out your ass.”
She grinned. “Oh. Ignore them. I do.”
“I don’t.” He started over to them, but Jessie stepped up, blocking his path.
“Are you serious? If you’re going to take on every guy who looks at me, this is going to be a long trip. Let it go, Diaz.”
“They’re assholes and they have no business looking at you that way.”
“Yes. But isn’t that what guys do?”
“Not this guy.”
She raised her brows. “Seriously. You’ve never given a girl with a nice ass a second look?”
He finally dragged his gaze away from the Neanderthals at the gas pump, and looked at her. “Not in the way they were checking you out.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Come on. I’m hungry. Come protect me from the leering diner patrons.”
Spence snorted and Diaz turned, shooting one last I-still-might-kill-you look at the two men before opening the door for Jessie.
Since it was about an hour and a half after the traditional lunch hour, the diner was practically empty. They slid into a booth at the corner of the restaurant. Jessie ordered coffee when the waitress stopped at their table to deliver menus. Diaz and Spence did the same.
“We’ve got about two hours before we arrive in Fayetteville,” Diaz said. “Why don’t you fill us in on what you know about the Devil’s Skulls?”
Jessie nodded. “Not much, really. My old bike broke down on one of the back roads outside Shreveport while I was on an early morning ride. I was about ready to hoof it to the nearest gas station when I heard the thunder of bikes approaching, so I stayed put. There were about thirty of them, Crush in the lead and his best friend Rex riding next to him. They pulled off while the rest of his gang continued into the next town. Crush and Rex helped me fix the bike, then escorted me into town. I ate breakfast with their gang.”
“Don’t you carry your cell phone?” Spence asked.
She nodded. “It didn’t work in that remote area. So I intended to start walking until I either reached a town or until my phone worked.”
“You shouldn’t ride by yourself, Jess. It’s too dangerous.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, finishing off by sticking her tongue out at Diaz.
Diaz frowned. “Don’t call me that.”
“Then stop treating me like a kid. It’s pissing me off.”
Spence laughed.
“Shut up, Spence,” she said.
He held his hands up. “Can we help it if we still see you as the skinny little kid who first came to us?”
“I wasn’t skinny.”
“You were, too. And you had an attitude. Thought you knew everything about everything.”
“Did not.”
“Oh hell yes you did. You were our little diva with a chip on her shoulder. You didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to take classes and finish your education. You fought Grange every step of the way.”
He was right. She did. God, had she ever had an attitude back then. She’d been so lost. Thank God for Mac and the rest of the Wild Riders. God only knows what would have happened to her. “I did a damn fine job stealing that car.”
“Bullshit,” Spence said. “You might as well have called the police before breaking the driver’s side window. Mac said you made enough noise to wake the whole neighborhood. If he hadn’t grabbed you and hightailed your ass out of there, you’d have done time in juvie.”
“No, if he hadn’t scared the shit out of me by coming up behind me and jerking me away, I’d have hot-wired that Chevy and hauled ass out of there before anyone found me.”
Spence shook his head. “Brat. You’d have been toast.”
She smirked. “I’d have been gone. With wheels under me.”
“You’d have been caught at the next corner.”
She paused, laughed. “You’re probably right. I was so green.” So desperate. “But look how much I’ve learned since then.”
“Yeah. Now you’re a great thief,” Spence teased.
She snorted, turned to Diaz, who only frowned. He never did join in with the other guys’ teasing her, even when she was just a kid. Always remote, always quiet. Oh, he was boisterous enough with the other guys, just not with her. Never with her. He kept his distance, muttered a few words now and then. She always thought he disliked her.
Now? She wasn’t so sure.
“From our research into the Skulls, they have a rep as trouble-makers. Fights here and there, a bit of gun and knife activity during altercations, normal gang stuff,” Diaz said, obviously changing the subject. “From the packet Grange gave us we know they’re based out of Arkansas. So we start there as far as checking them out.”
Spence nodded. “Notoriety is a big thing. But they must be pretty low profile because I haven’t heard any bad news on them and I travel a lot in Arkansas.”
“We ran into some other biker groups when I rode with them,” Jessie said. “No altercations. Everyone kept their distance, but Crush and his gang didn’t seem to be looking for trouble.”
“And didn’t start any with you,” Spence noted.
“No, they didn’t. They found me on a fairly deserted stretch of road, too, so if they’d wanted to mess with me, they could have.”
Diaz heaved a heavy sigh. Jessie knew he was frustrated with her again, no doubt because he thought she took too many chances with her own safety. She supposed she should appreciate his concern, but she wished he was more confident in her abilities to take care of herself. She wasn’t some sheltered rich girl who didn’t know the ways of the world. She was streetwise, had grown up seeing and experiencing the worst. She knew what was up and how to avoid getting into dangerous situations. And if she somehow got into one, she knew how to get herself out.
“So maybe they were having an off day and decided to be nice,” Diaz said, not sounding convinced. “Because the intel we have managed to get on the Skulls said they’re brawlers, carry guns and knives, and spend a lot of time on the wrong side of the law.”
“That could be PR and nothing more,” Jessie argued. “You know how that goes with biker gangs. The same could be said of the Hells Angels, and they do more good things than bad. Sometimes the law spins things their way to make bikers look bad.”
“True enough. But what we need to find out is if their gang is a front for a group of survivalists who are buying and stockpiling illegal arms. We know for sure there are illegal arms shipments coming into this area, and intelligence says the arms are connected to Crush’s gang somehow. So let’s meet up with them and see for ourselves what side of the law the Devil’s Skulls are straddling.”
She nodded. That made sense, though her interactions with the Devil’s Skulls had only been positive. Crush and Rex had been good to her, had helped her out when she’d desperately needed it.
Though that didn’t mean they weren’t the bad guys, and it was important she remember that. She had to keep an open mind, not be too trusting or too wary.
Diaz had his way of doing things. She had hers. Perhaps the mission would benefit from the two different approaches. She supposed that remained to be seen.
They finished eating and got on their bikes again, heading up north the last couple of hours into Fayetteville. The rally was already underway. Over thirty thousand bikers were expected in for the weekend’s festivities. The roads were crowded with motorcycles already and Jessie thrilled to be surrounded by her fellow bikers. Alone and on the streets at fifteen, starving and desperate, she’d never foreseen this kind of future for herself. Thanks to Mac and Grange and the Wild Riders, she had an exciting life ahead of her, and now she had her first assignment as a government agent.
Who would have thought that could happen, when she could have ended up dead, or in jail—or even worse, if she’d stayed at home with her mother?
It was too early to check in to the hotel rooms Grange had managed to wrangle on their behalf, so they hit the main drag first. Bikes lined both sides of the street, all parked in neat rows. Bikers walked along, watching other bikers ride up and down the road. People waved and checked out the custom bikes. It was like a circus or party atmosphere.
Jessie loved bike rallies, never missed an opportunity to come to one. She always met new people or caught up with old friends. This one would be even more exciting because she was working—on a case. She couldn’t help the tiny shiver of excitement skittering down her spine. She felt like Bond, Jane Bond, secret agent girl.
At a stoplight, she pulled up alongside Diaz, with Spence on her other side.
“You’re our eyes here,” Diaz said to her. “Since you’ve met him, you’ll be the primary lookout for Crush and his gang. Signal if you spot them.”
She nodded and they took off when the light turned green, cruising through the town, blending in with everyone else as if they were just another couple of bikers checking out the action. Vendors here and there, lots to see and do, which was great, since no one paid any attention to them. They could get lost in a massive crowd like this, gawk as much as they wanted, and search for Crush.
By the time they had ridden for two hours, it was obvious Crush and the Skulls weren’t there. They found a place to park at the top of the hill near the beer garden and went in for a cold drink.
“You sure you didn’t spot him?” Spence asked.
Jessie shook her head. “They wear distinctive patches, and a lot of them have special jackets with their gang symbol on the back. Skulls with devil horns. You can’t miss them.”
“Rally starts today,” Diaz said. “Maybe they aren’t coming.”
“He’s coming,” Jessie said, propping her feet up on the vacant chair at their table. “He asked me if I’d be here.”
Diaz frowned. “When?”
“That day he rescued my bike. We stopped and ate together, remember? I told him I was on my way back home after a bike rally, and he told me about this one in Fayetteville because it was near where he lived. He gave me the details on location, what went down around here, and what time of year it was, then asked if I’d come. I told him I would. So I assumed his gang would be here, especially since this is Devil’s Skulls territory. Trust me, he’ll be here.”
“He’d better, or this will be one short assignment.”
“We could always head into the hills and look for them,” Spence suggested.
Diaz nodded. “We’ll do that if we have to, but I think Jessie meeting up with him should look more like chance than design.”
They sat at the beer tent for a while and nursed a few beers, listened to the band, and watched bikes cruise down the main drag. Jessie focused on keeping watch for Crush or anyone else wearing the Devil’s Skulls insignia.
After a couple of hours they’d seen nothing, and it was getting late. They got up and did a bit of walking, venturing into the main activity area, into the buildings and tents, hoping to find Crush there. He wasn’t.
“Let’s go,” Diaz said. “We’ll grab our bikes and take another ride around and see if we can spot them. Maybe they’re all parked somewhere else.”