Page 12 of Tinsel & Chrome
Holiday
Another week and I still haven’t located Alaric Reyes.
Which is strange because I feel as if I know everything about him, except where he lives.
Maybe I need to find someone else who could help me.
I was sure he and his brothers—which I found out is what they refer to each other in the clubs—would help.
I haven’t had any dealings with the Merciless Few MC, or any MC for that matter.
I might not even have come across them if not for seeing him at the courthouse and asking the clerk if she knew him.
He’d walked in with a protective vest with bounty hunter in bold letters and flanked by two men who had leather vests with the MFMC logo and Georgia Chapter under it.
And let me add they were damn fine.
Every woman in the place stopped what they were doing to watch them walk by.
When I went home, I searched for them—nothing to get me in trouble.
I found out they operate a licensed bail bond company and several other legitimate businesses.
But the most interesting information about them is that a majority of the members are bounty hunters.
Well, at least the Alabama and Georgia Chapters.
Seems the motorcycle club is national. Had to look up what that meant.
There was information about them helping women and children escape their abusers—which is a wonderful thing.
No articles about any nefarious activity from them.
Doesn’t mean there isn’t any.
They could just be really good at it.
So they were the first I thought of when I realized I would need some help with digging into the ones I overheard mentioning my sister’s name.
I could have walked up to the hangout, I mean clubhouse and asked for him.
But I chickened out and sat down the road from the clubhouse in my vehicle to watch for him.
Then I panicked when the one bike headed for me and spun around, taking off before he reached me.
If I get busted for hacking into a few systems illegally again, my sister will kill me.
She won’t even care if I did it all for her.
She’ll yell at me for not mentioning anything to her from the start.
Ugh, maybe I’m doomed to be like my dad—in and out of jail—until an accident takes my life like his while out on bail for yet another arrest.
Maybe an evening of gaming will take my mind off everything.
I push the ‘on’ button on my gaming setup in the corner of my living room.
Listening to the humming as it warms up and watching the three screens come to life, I chuckle.
“Yeah, Dani, I’m hiding a man from you,”
I say out loud, and my chuckle turns into a full-blown laugh.
After pulling out the chair, I pause and think about the last time a man has even been at my apartment. Good grief, none is this apartment, and I’ve lived in it almost a year.
“That’s just sad, Hols. Just plain sad,”
I say as I start to sit in the chair as someone knocks on my door.
Walking across the living room, I flip the locks and turn the handle, forgetting once again to look at the peephole.
As I open the door, I freeze.
Holy shit!
“Holiday Stark, I heard you’ve been looking for me.”
*****
Deal
I have to bend my head to look into the face of the woman who stands frozen in the doorway. In person, she looks just as young as the picture reflected. However, calling her beautiful was an understatement on my part. The piercings could be made out in the picture, but the tattoos going up her arm hadn’t been in view.
She moves her hand to reach up and push the shoulder-length hair on one side behind her ear. The dark brown doe eyes still focused on me hardly seem to blink.
I break the connection by walking past her into the living room and glancing around. Immediately I know no man shares her space. Everything in the room is feminine with the exception of the computer equipment that takes up a wall.
“Is that the setup you use to nosey around where you’ve got no business?”
I turn and watch as she takes a deep breath, then closes the door before turning around to face me.
“No... well, not usually.”
“Hmm, so I’m the lucky one? Wanna explain why?”
I lift an eyebrow.
“How?”
“How to explain? Well, you start talking—”
“No. How did you find me?”
“You’re not in a position to ask questions. Why have you been searching for me?”
To my surprise, she moves to her couch and plops down.
“Umm... the short version or do you want me to start from the beginning?”
“I’ve got nowhere to be, so the beginning is good.”
She isn’t i two minutes into talking and I’m the one plopping down in the chair across from her.
“Wait.”
I cut in.
“You’re telling me you have been digging around in God knows how many systems for information on me because you saw me at the courthouse? Are you nuts? Do you stalk people often? Do you even understand how dangerous that is? You dig into the wrong person, and them showing up at your door won’t be to ask why you’re doing it?”
“In my defense, I didn’t right away until... until I overheard a conversation involving my sister. You and the MFMC were the first to come to mind. I don’t know who they were or when, nor why they’re targeting her. Okay, maybe the why.”
“Oh yeah, you are gonna have to do more explaining, so get to it.”
After sitting for I don’t know how long, listening to her convoluted idea I and the club could help her, I was fascinated with how her brain worked.
Then, she goes into the part of how her sister was the only family each other has and she’d do anything to keep her safe. The story of the sisters reminds me of my brother and me. Similar circumstances. And I would do anything to keep him safe too.
I watch her facial expression change throughout along with the use of her hands as she continues to talk. It’s as if her hands are linked to her speech.
Damn, she’s too beautiful for her own good, and the fascinating part is she has no clue. I’d bet money on her not knowing the effect she has on men. Hell, she doesn’t know the effect she has on me at the moment.
Is it wrong to be thinking of how you’d like to explore her body to find out where else she has piercings or tattoos? Maybe, but I can’t find enough reason to care. I won’t lie to myself—I’m drawn to her. I’m so fucked.