Page 15 of Mile High With the Bikers (Screaming Eagles MC #10)

BULL

Rory—or whoever the fuck she is—looks real damn small with her feet pulled up under her in Eagle-eye's office. She's in his leather reading chair and she's looking down at her hands, fidgeting like a kid called to the principal's office. Whittaker's daughter ?

What the fuck?

I’m pissed that she was playing fucking games with us, but it doesn’t add up. The way she’s been acting doesn’t line up with a spoiled little rich girl traveling undercover for fun. Why the hell would he have his own daughter pretending to be a stewardess on his own fucking plane ?

And now we’re the ones that look like fuck-ups.

Eagle-eye glares at the three of us in turn. “If this goes south, get ready to deal with all the crap nobody else fucking wants for the next decade, and I don’t want to hear anything but ‘yes, sir’ out of your God damned mouths.”

“Yes, sir,” I growl along with Diesel and Shrapnel.

“Now stand there and look fucking contrite if that isn’t too fancy a word for you fuckers.

” Eagle-eye does something on his laptop, and then it's ringing. Jupiter, his boxer that's napping in the bed next to Rory’s chair, lifts his graying muzzle just long enough to see that the grumbling’s got nothing to do with him, then puts his head back down.

Almost immediately, Whittaker's on the screen, looking surprisingly good for someone who took a bullet yesterday. Sitting behind him, tied to chairs, are Mad Dog and Piston. A couple of goons loom over them, including one of the guys from the plane. “You hung up on me! Nobody hangs up on me!”

Eagle-eye ignores him and turns the laptop so that Rory's in it.

With an unhappy smile, she wiggles her fingers in a sheepish wave. “Hi, Dad.”

Guess that part's true then.

“Florence,” he snaps, after giving himself a split second to look relieved. “Do you have any idea the trouble this?—”

Florence?

Eagle-eye coughs and turns the laptop back around. “So as you can see, she’s alive and well.”

“What are your demands? If you and your little club think you can get away with this by hiding behind the Giordanos, you have no idea what my resources can make happen. Hijacking my plane and kidnapping my daughter in the middle of delicate negotiations is pure insanity!”

Rory springs out of the chair and puts herself in view of the camera. “Let those guys go. Nobody kidnapped me!”

“Oh really? Don’t be naive,” Whittaker sneers. “Do you think they just happened to save you by separating you from us in the chaos and now you’re locked behind the walls of a known criminal organization?”

Prez’s good eye twitches which is never a good sign. “Asshole, you have no idea what my little club can do.”

This is going downhill fast. I step forward.

“Everyone just hold up. We had jack shit to do with what happened on that plane. We were in the back with Rory when the shooting started. All we did was help manage the situation. Yeah, we took Rory with us, because she was fucking terrified, the plane was on fucking fire, and we didn’t exactly have a lot of time to weigh our fucking options. ”

“This is bullshit,” Diesel growls. “You should be thanking us for saving her life, not snatching our men off the street and acting like you’re so much fucking better than?—”

“Enough.” Eagle raises a hand and Diesel snaps his mouth shut.

“Look, as one father to another, I get it. I would—and have— painted the fucking streets red to keep my kid safe. If you hadn’t gone and made a move against us I could’ve put her in a car with a pat on the head and sent her on her way, but you’ve put me in a tricky position.

You’ve got my men, and regardless of how or why it happened, I’ve got your girl.

” Eagle-eye's voice goes ice cold. “Now I’m going to give you a couple hours to cool down and think real hard about how we ended up here. I would suggest you look real fucking hard at some of the other known criminals you had around your table yesterday.”

From where I’m standing, I can see the slight tinge of fear on Whittaker’s face. He would really like to believe that the big bad biker club is responsible for his issues, because if it wasn’t us, that means someone else on that plane might’ve been trying to kill him.

Eagle-eye makes a clicking sound with his tongue against his teeth and nods. “Good talk.”

“Don't you dare?—”

Whatever we're not supposed to dare is cut off when Prez snaps his laptop shut. “Your father’s an asshole.”

“Yeah. I'm used to it.” She shrugs and returns to the chair where she plops down, not looking happy.

Diesel moves to her side and puts a hand on her shoulder. Makes me wonder what happened between them last night. From the looks Shrapnel is giving them, I know I’m not alone.

“Alright, here's the deal.” Prez swivels his chair so he can look at all of us. “Florence here is gonna be our guest until her dad’s tantrum is over and he starts thinking again. Don’t let her out of your sight, and if just for once you could keep your dicks in your pants and not add to my fucking headache that would be great. ”

“Prez—” Diesel starts but Eagle-eye holds his hand up.

“Don’t want to know. You’ve made enough trouble for now. Just make sure that at least one of you is glued to her fucking side until this is resolved. Clear?”

“Crystal,” all three of us reply.

“Good. There's a free room on the second floor in the back. Move her in there if she needs space to crash while this is resolving. Now get the fuck out of my office. I have grown-up stuff to do.”

As soon as we’re out of Prez’s office, I grab her shoulders firmly and steer her towards the couches in the back of the common room. “We need to talk.”

She only resists for a moment, then nods, resigned. “Yeah. Okay.”

Rory plops her perfect ass on one of the couches and the three of us take the couch opposite.

It feels like an interrogation, and my instinct is to make this easier for her and smooth things over, but this shit is too serious to baby a grown ass woman.

She looks between the three of us, and I can see when the weight of everything settles on her shoulders and she sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Was it a joke to you?” Shrapnel takes the lead.

“I feel real fucking stupid right now, thinking we were up there treating you like you were one of us, you know? Just a girl doing her job and having a little fun while the rich assholes sat around being rich assholes. If you wanted to slum around for some fun, be fucking honest about it.”

“No, it wasn’t like that. I just… there was never the right time, and I was worried that you'd…” She purses her lips tight and her chin wobbles a little.

“This is why you were so worried about Whittaker; why you felt so guilty.” Diesel leans back. “You weren’t worried about your boss. You were worried about your father.”

“Yeah,” she whispers, looking down at her lap before drawing a breath and meeting our eyes.

“He’s always been paranoid that people will try to use me against him, so when we need to travel for work, he likes me to look like just another employee.

It lets him keep me close without too many questions. ”

“That’s kinda fucked up,” I say.

Rory glances my way with a sheepish smile. “Right? It’s not all bad. It lets me stay in the background and nobody pays much attention to the stewardess or his personal assistant.”

Shrapnel laughs, “Bullshit. We could barely keep our fucking eyes off you.”

“I wasn’t trying to trick you or anything, honest. Not the way you think. Things just spiraled really fast, and once we were…” She licks her lips nervously. “Right, you probably remember. And then there wasn’t exactly a good time to stop and chat while the plane was going down.”

Diesel gets up and sits down to wrap his arm around her. She looks up for a moment then leans into him, accepting it. It annoys me, but only because it’s another reminder that he seems to have a connection with her that we don’t.

Rory takes a deep breath. “I should’ve made you leave me there, but?—”

“Hey, chuckleheads!” Viking pokes his head into the common room. “It doesn’t take three to watch one girl. I need two of you to come with me over to Blackworth and convince Luca you’re real fucking sorry for getting Whittaker on his case.”

“Rock paper scissors?” I suggest.

Shrapnel wins.

“I got her. You boys go and play nice with the mobsters. I’d probably end up pissing them off anyway.” He stands and looks down at Rory. “Guess it’s just you and me, princess.”