Page 13 of Tracking Luxe

He left the woman tied to the bed.

Six hours later, he called in his report. He had eyes on the big apartment building the Russian mafia were staying in. In the heart of Armado Springs no less. The cocky motherfuckers had strolled In and made themselves at home, they might as well have invited themselves to Rider’s dinner table.

It hadn’t taken much for Grinder to locate theBratva. With an inkling they were not hiding themselves, and didn’t that jar his irritation, no one, mafia included, had any respect nowadays for the bigger dogs. They were making a play for Armado, blatantly flaunting that they were a presence in his town, the town owned and run by Renegade Souls MC, it had been that way for the last fifty years and the club wasn’t about to make any changes in power, no matter how hard they were pushed. RS would always push back harder.

“They rented out the whole block,” he communicated to Rider and heard his boss curse. “Talked to one of my guys,” Grinder had a slew of informants throughout the states, a network of snitches and eyes everywhere. “He said the Russians moved in fully a few weeks ago, and a few more joined them earlier this week, they came in from Chicago.”

“Grigori is upping his attendance.” Rider’s voice was tight.

“Do we know what the deal was he had going with Hades?” Hades, the deceased motherfucker who had been the frontman for the defunct Raging Rebel’s MC. The mangiest outlaws to ever walk. On principle Grinder would have hated them, but they’d had a long rivalry with the RS, Hades had tried for years to destroy Rider’s legacy and failed hardcore seeing as Hades was now dead. But before he’d gone belly up he was the only club that had dealt with theBratva, no other club in the area would have been dumb enough to climb into a cold bed with the underboss of the Russian mob.

As far as Rider was aware those Russian based mob had a piece of most every state, the ones the Italians didn’t own, Grinder couldn’t be bothered with mafia politics, it didn’t touch him and his. His club didn’t deal in firearms or hard drugs and didn’t traffic sex, unless the Russians were going into the Vodka business, Grinder couldn’t see exactly what they wanted with Colorado, he reckoned it was simply to have Rider under their thumb.

Measuring dicks never got old.

“Whatever it was, brother, it was nothin’ good.” Replied his president.

“What do you want me to do now, stick around?”

“Nah. We’ll see if they step out of line first, then I’ll have words with Grigori to take a message back to his alpha dog.”

“Roger that, Prez.” Grinder pushed himself off the mailbox he’d been leaning against and crossed the street, he needed to grab some food for Luxe, she’d be awake by now and spitting her fury no doubt to find he’d slipped a piece of tape over her mouth while she slept.

“You heading back to the club? Between you and your boy playing daddy this week I’m two men down.”

Guilt chewed on Grinder’s intestines until bile rose up his throat. Shit. Hadn’t he been at Preacher’s side recently to watch him say hisI Do’sto his old lady? Whatever his friend insisted that it was to gain custody of Ruby’s nephew, Preacher was in love. He’d been pleased to see his buddy happy at last, and to gain the insta-daddy role.

“Yeah, soon, Prez. I’ll make up my time in the shop.” He didn’t tell him he might be taking a trip to New Mexico, that a pussy had finally driven him crazy and he was being led by his own dick.

His guilt swelled by about seven million notches.

Detouring on his way back to the motel, he stopped in at Preacher’s place and met his new son.

CHAPTER FIVE

“When all else fails, just kiss and hope for the best.” - Luxe.

The lock turned and in swaggered the giant asshole.

Luxe glared hard enough to warrant his eyebrows scorching, taking in every detail from the top of his dark head, without the wool hat today, hair dark and glossy swept in spikes to the side, his beard trim, she glared her dangerous gaze down his shirt, jacket and jeans and landed on his boots before sweeping back up, hoping her stare was translating just how pissed off she was. Not as though she could fling swear words in his direction, she’d awoken with tightness on her lips, only when she was fully cognizant had she realized it was that fucking tape again.

She’d done some heavy duty wriggling to push herself into a sitting position, both arms secured together and tied to the headboard, she’d stewed for hours on just how hard she was going to bludgeon Kingtonto giganteinto next week.

“Hi, honey. I’m home.” He dared to wink.

Luxe glowered and fisted her palms. Her arms were aching, the muscles tight and numb. She mumbled for him to get the rope off her.

Surprisingly, he dropped a baggie of food onto the table and a tray carrying two coffees, and did exactly that, untying her gently, she noted, he even ran a finger across her wrist before she pulled them back. He didn’t get to touch her.

“You are abastard.” She hissed once the tape was removed. Her poor lips were not going to have skin left before long.

“You’ve told me a time or two. Prepared to talk now, are you?”

“I already told you! The man doesn’t fricking listen. The man issordo!”deaf.Slipping off the bed, she had an overflowing bladder to deal with before she could try and reason with this slow man.

“The man has brought you grub and coffee,” his voice laced with amusement gave her pause to really look at him.

So damn handsome. Too handsome. The overlapping feelings made her heady, excited. Aroused, dammit. The longer she looked at him the more it fueled her delusions just waiting to explode catastrophe. He looked at her a little too long and she liked it.

---