Page 9 of Ignite

The pretty leaf pattern she’d formed at the top of his cup became a blob as she miscalculated the pour. She was sure her face flushed red, making it appear blotchy and totally unattractive. “Thank me? For what?”

His eyes captured hers, and the breath in her chest became still.

“Do you remember a woman named Delia Best?”

“Um… yeah?”

“She’s my landlady. She told me a girl by the name of Jazzyhands kept her from making a mistake and losing a bunch of money to some phone scam thing. Delia said this Jazzyhands girl lives in this neighborhood and works for Madge and Bill. It didn’t take me long to figure out that it had to be you.”

Jazz coughed to cover her surprise and handed him a white paper cup and a full bag. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty good with computer skills and know my way around a code or two. I’m glad to help where I can. You know Madge and Bill lost a lot of money that way.” She shrugged. “Makes me so angry when people are taken advantage of like that.”

He took the cup and lightly brushed her fingertips with his, zapping her with kinetic energy. “I want you to know, I appreciate what you did for her. Delia’s been widowed a long time now and doesn’t have family close by. She doesn’t have a lot of money and rents the upper part of her house to make ends meet. I consider that woman to be under my protection and the protection of the club. Means something to me.”

Jazz dropped her eyes and tried to hide her grin. “Oh… uh… well, I’m happy Delia is okay.”

“You want to know what else?”

She swallowed the sudden pool that appeared on her tongue and hoped she wouldn’t choke on her own spit. “What?”

He leaned in, and those gorgeous eyes of his held her in place like predator and prey.

“I consider you under my protection and the club’s protection now. Take care, Jazz.”

Jazz’s brain short-circuited as she watched her favorite biker leave the bakery.

He knows my name, and I’m under his protection. Under his protection. Under his… omigod!How was she supposed to handle this new information? What did it mean?

Several scenarios flew through her head. Pictures of Wolf in all his biker glory, taking her out to a five-star restaurant and then a movie. Nope, that looked funny. How ’bout a trip to the zoo and then a fast-food joint? More likely, but still weird. Riding on his bike through the mountains? That spot was reserved for girlfriends. Did bikers have girlfriends, or was it old ladies like the romance books said?

“Yo! We gonna get our coffees or what?”

The customer’s loud inquiry startled her from her fantasy world, and she jumped in surprise, yelping in pain when her elbow grazed the counter. The awkward movement made her phone drop from her apron pocket, and as luck would have it, the whole device exploded into pieces.

“Oh, poop.” Jazz made a point of limiting her cuss words at work, though she had no trouble letting loose at home. She bent to clean up the carnage as Madge blustered into the store.

“Mornin’,” the woman greeted her hurriedly before donning her own apron and getting straight to work.

Jazz shook her head to get back on track. She slipped the pieces of her phone into the big front pocket and thought more about her encounter with Wolf. His protection probably meant that he’d keep an eye on her like he did Bill and Madge. That was a nice idea, and she should be satisfied with that. Sometimes it was best to appreciate the gifts that were given rather than ask for something impossible.

With that thought, Jazz smiled and thanked the universe for Wolf’s recognition. Broken phone or not, hearing her favorite biker say her name was enough to make her day.

6

The pressurein Wolf’s head pounded in tandem with the music. Harper ground away onstage, working the pole while Portia worked the crowd. Both women had bills stuffed under their sparkly thongs. Whistles, catcalls, and loud whoops added to the cacophony. Most nights the noise didn’t bother him, but he’d woken up this afternoon with gritty eyes and a nasty migraine. Spring had dumped her annual load of tree pollen with dusty yellow clouds that coated everything. It was mainly the greenways at the river, as there weren’t a lot of wooded areas in the city, but yesterday’s trip had affected him the most.

He’d ridden his bike right through the thick haze in the budding mountains to Moundsville, West Virginia. At least once a month, he visited the prison there to see Cesar Beltran, otherwise known as Go-Kart to the club. He was one of the few members who didn’t work with the steel mills directly; rather, he rebuilt engines and did car mods and other custom work in the machine shop.

He’d been caught at a street racing event during a police raid. Normally, it would only be a two- or three-hundred-dollar fine; however, when the police showed up, the crowd panicked and ran into the street during one of the races. The drivers took action immediately, but making a four-thousand-pound vehicle go from 125 to 0 in seconds is physically impossible without someone getting hurt. Cesar skidded and avoided hitting anyone, but some of the other drivers weren’t so lucky. Thankfully, no one died, but there were several injuries, including some children.

Instead of blaming the parents who brought their kids to a midnight street race, the cops rounded up as many drivers as they could find and charged them all with child endangerment. Cesar, being who he was and wearing club colors, ended up in prison, where he’d been for the past year.

Since Wolf didn’t get his usual daytime rest yesterday, that threw off his pattern. He was working on roughly four hours of sleep in the last twenty-four. At one time in his life, he could go for days on very little sack time, but he was closer to forty than thirty, and the effects of aging had started to creep up on him.

“What’s up, baby?” Candie walked up to him, her enhanced breasts bouncing with every step of her stilettos. The bra she wore barely contained the masses, and her nipples poked through, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Same old, same old. Aren’t you supposed to robe up before coming out to greet your fans?”

“I don’t have anything to hide from my fans.” She tittered and ran a sharp clawlike talon down his arm. “Besides, there’s only one fan I want to greet. You doin’ anything after?”

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