Now, it was Nash’s turn to laugh. “Man, I ain’t doin’ no tap dance for you and you know it.”

  With a slow nod, Fury continued grinning. “Yeah, I know. You’re a mean stubborn ass somebody. You just keep that shit on the low.”

  Nash shrugged. “Trying to keep myself out of trouble.”

  “It’s a good look for you,” Fury said, sobering a bit. “That’s why I had Zayn circle back to you. We need to make this happen, Nash. Get you on board so we can all make this money the right way.”

  The Platinum Ryders owned this casino. Fury’s sister, Maleeka, managed it. His brother KC worked at Blackbond on the automotive side. Zayn was their cousin and he owned a couple of barber shops here in Destine and one a couple of towns over in Providence. But that was all a cover, a legalized shield for the criminal enterprise that had been built over four generations of the Mathias clan and the bikers who linked up with them.

  It had taken Nash a couple of years of hanging with and then riding with the club to figure out everything that was going on. They didn’t give the newbies the heavy jobs so from the time Nash was fourteen until he turned sixteen, he’d hadn’t done much more than shoot pool and get pussy when he was at the compound. That all changed the first time Fury took him for a ride. And that shit further changed the day Nash decided to take the charge for his younger, eager, and definitely more stupid brother.

  “It’s a really good offer,” Nash replied.

  “Right!” Fury added. “So, sign your name on the dotted line and let’s get started. I can’t wait to get you an exclusive line of racing bikes. You know how much money we’re gonna make off those team sponsors and shit? I’m out here trying to make a legitimate name for myself and my family and I need you on board.”

  Fury’s mother had passed away from complications of Lupus a few years back. His father hadn’t taken it well and mostly stayed in that big house down by the water where he’d raised his family. In addition to him, Maleeka and KC were all the blood family Fury had. The Ryders though, they were still about sixty deep and everyone of them would die for Fury’s ass. He may have given the official title of president over to Zayn, but there was no denying that he was still the boss.

  Nash wasn’t sure he was ready for Fury to be his boss though. Which was part of the reason he’d asked for a few days to think things over.

  That didn’t totally explain why he was sitting in his favorite recliner tonight feeling like shit though.

  He’d been holed up in his apartment for the last three days having one hell of a pity-party and the rest of the apple cobbler from Lola’s.

  He was angry with Mica for not telling him who she really was and even angrier with himself for falling so hard and so fast for a woman he barely knew.

  Bell had a daughter. A beautiful, tenacious and passionate daughter. She’d come here all the way from Paris to save her father’s company. And, from what he’d heard from Rock, she’d done it. Earl was gone, customers were pouring in and Mica had re-instituted the childcare and profit-sharing benefits. She was doing what she’d said she would do and that was a good thing.

  Still, Nash didn’t want her to do good things. He wanted her to mess up royally and have to run back to Paris with her tail tucked between her legs. It was a temptingly round tail, but whatever.

  The staff was getting to know her. Rock said she ate with them in the lunchroom two days in a row and she liked fried pork chops. Rock loved to eat any and every part of the pig so that was music to his ears.

  Nash didn’t care.

  Yet, he definitely did. A fact which only pissed him off more.

  He’d really liked Mica and he couldn’t remember when the last time he’d ever really liked a woman before. She liked bikes, or she was coming to like bikes and she was adventurous and caring. He’d watched her more than he wanted to admit while they’d been at the fundraiser. The way she’d talked to the children and helped the smaller ones with the games until they won a prize had been touching and very telling about the woman she was. Even if he hadn’t known her full name at the time.

  He’d spent two hours on his laptop searching for the magazine article that featured Michel Lynette Monroe. He’d found it and had smiled at how fresh and pretty she looked sitting next to a woman who clearly should have been on the other side of a camera herself. There had been no question of what had first attracted Bell to Ms. Cecile Monroe, an absolutely stunning brunette with lively blue eyes.

  Mica was Bell’s daughter alright; they had the same forehead and high cheekbones. The same tenacious spirit and burning curiosity. The same love of business, it seemed, as she was now the owner of Bellamy Motors.

  And if Nash didn’t know better, he’d think he’d been falling in love with her.

  It was a good thing his phone rang at that moment because he was driving himself crazy having these same thoughts over and over again.

  “Yeah?” he answered not really in the mood to talk even though he’d welcomed the intrusion.

  “Nash man, you gotta do me a huge favor,” Henley spoke from the other end.

  Squeezing the bridge of his nose Nash sighed. “I don’t gotta do anything, Hen. What’s going on?”

  “I’m locked up. I just need you to go over to my place and get that bag from inside of the Cheerios box. Bring it down here and bail me out.”

  Nash had gone still the moment his brother began speaking. “Dammit Henley! How many times are you going to do this?”

  “Look, I don’t need all this talkin’. Can you just go get my money and get me the hell out of here?”

  “I’m not gonna keep bailing you out, man. You’ve got to get yourself together,” Nash told him.

  “You’re not bailing me out, Nash. It’s my money, remember?”

  That wasn’t the point and it was so like Henley to not get that part at all.

  “What did you do?” he asked after a heavy sigh.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Henley grumbled.

  It was his typical response and Nash was tired of hearing it.

  “What did they arrest you for?” he asked because it seemed his brother needed the shit broken down for him.

  Henley swore. “Are you gonna get the money or not?”

  “No,” Nash replied and disconnected the call.

  He was tired of Henley and his antics. His brother simply refused to learn. No matter what Nash said, Henley was determined to walk his own path, even if that path was sure to lead to extended jail time, or worse, death. But hell, maybe it was time Nash let him do just that. Maybe it was time Henley spent some hard time in jail as Nash had done all those years ago. He really believed that, and yet, he’d already moved from the recliner and picked up his keys from the table near the door. He was walking out of his apartment in less than five minutes, cursing his brother every step of the way.

  There was a sense of dread—much heavier than he’d felt after first receiving Henley’s call—when Nash walked into the police station. That could’ve been attributed to the two men dressed in suits with dour looks on their faces, standing near one of the desks in the front area of the room. They each had their hands in their pockets, pushing their jackets back so that the gun holstered on their side was visible. Deputy Ferris, who Nash had known since high school, was talking quietly to the men. He looked up and greeted Nash with a nod before coming over to speak with him.

  “Hey, Ferris,” Nash greeted him because they’d had an occasion or two to chop it up while sitting at the counter having a meal at Lola’s.

  “Nash,” Ferris said as he accepted Nash’s outstretched hand for a shake. “I assume Henley called you.”

  “Yeah, he did. What’s he in for this time?”

  “Got him on burglary. We managed to lift some prints from the door to the shop and there was a chain cutter in the parking lot that had a perfect set of prints.”

  Because it wasn’t new to be in the police station asking about Henley, Nash was only half listening to Ferris. He was, instead, paying much more attention to the guys in suits that had now also turned their attention to him.

  “Who are they?” Nash asked nodding in the direction of the men.

  There was no need for Ferris to even turn around and look at who Nash was referring to. “That’s the other thing and it’s actually going to make posting Henley’s bail a little more difficult this time around.”

  “What?” Nash asked. “They’re here for Henley?”

  Ferris nodded. “They’re Feds, Nash. Seems they’ve been watching Henley for months now as a part of some big drug sting that spans from Prince George’s County to Atlantic City and New York. They got the entire dealership burglary on their surveillance tapes.”

  “Wait a minute,” Nash said, hearing exactly what Ferris was saying for the first time. “Are you telling me that Henley’s responsible for stealing the bikes from Bellamy Motors?”

  In a somber gesture filled with the pity that only pissed Nash off further, Ferris shrugged. “They’re taking custody of him as soon as the sheriff finishes going over all the paperwork.”

  Nash was gritting his teeth so hard at this point he thought he might end up with jaw damage. He was so fuckin’ pissed with his brother, pissed and just a little bit afraid of what might actually be coming down the line for Henley.

  “Where is he?” he managed to ask.

  “Back there in the cell.”

  Nash had already begun walking back in that direction when he heard Ferris saying something about other visitors, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t care what else was being said, he had some words for his brother. Moments later Nash came to a quick stop as he realized maybe he should’ve listened more closely to Ferris. Now, nobody was speaking as he stood only a few feet away from Mica.

  “Well, now that we’re all here,” Henley said his hands gripping the bars, his smiling face pressed between them. “We can take care of the formalities and then head over to Lola’s for a late lunch. I’m starving.”

  “You’re an asshole,” Nash stated. “How could you do it, Hen? How could you steal from the one person that not only cared enough to give me a shot, but bailed your sorry ass out a time or two over the years?”

  Henley shrugged. “I had mad respect for old Bell and was sorry to see him go, but he is gone Nash. And like I said, Earl’s planning to sell that place. I owed money to some really ignorant guys upstate, I had to get it quick or they were gonna kill my ass. What other choice did I have?” Henley asked in a whisper shout. Even though it didn’t really matter now. The police didn’t need a confession from him, not when they had it all on tape.

  “You could’ve chosen to do the right thing! For once in your life, Henley, you could have done what a normal citizen would do. Get a damn job, be happy with what you have and live your life! Nobody owes you any more than that.”

  “Bullshit! Why should I be stuck working some minimum wage job just because I don’t have some fuckin’ diploma or a college degree? Do you know how many applications I’ve filled out and how many interviews I went on just to have nobody return my calls. The only thing they thought I could do was flip burgers at the McDonald’s at the travel stop. I’m better than that Nash and you know it!” Henley shouted.

  “How many times did I tell you to go back and get your GED? There were free classes at the community center every summer. Bell said he’d give you a shot in the shop if you did that, but you never did,” Nash said.

  “I’m not a grease monkey like you, bowing and dancing to the almighty Bell’s every word.” Henley scowled. “I got higher goals than that. And you should’ve had them too. You got all those hot ass designs that could be making you some real money, but you stayed in that shop working like Bell’s and then Earl’s slave, while both of them got rich. Where’s the logic in that big brother?”

  Nash nodded his head and for the first time in the years since their parents’ death, he realized something Bell had tried to tell him. Henley had long ago made up his mind that a life of crime was the best life for him. Nothing Nash did or said over the years had worked to convince his brother otherwise.

  “I’m proud of the work I do now, Henley. Can you say the same? Are you really proud of stealing and selling drugs to people, catering to an addiction that will eventually kill them? Is that the legacy you want to leave on this world?”

  Henley was shaking his head. “You know they ain’t never gonna let a Black man get ahead in this world. All we can do is take what we want, cause they ain’t givin’ us a damn thing.”

  “No, Henley, nobody is going to give you anything. They shouldn’t. But you can damn sure earn what you want out of life. I know because I was blessed enough to have somebody give me a chance. I’ve earned everything I have.”

  “Yeah, well, do you have my bail money? I’m ready to get the hell out of here,” was his sour retort. The smile that was usually on Henley’s face had changed to a twisted grimace that only reminded Nash of how angry his brother really was and had been for far too long.

  “No. I didn’t go get any stash money you had. You should probably save that for the lawyer you’re going to need because I’m not helping you out this time, man. I’m done calling lawyers and making sure you show up for court dates. Even if Bell is dead, you stole from his daughter and you’ve embarrassed me for the last time.”

  Nash turned to leave hearing his brother calling his name and a few other names that weren’t on Nash’s birth certificate. But he didn’t give a damn. He was hurt and pissed off and all he could think about was returning to his safe place and plopping down in his favorite recliner once more.

  “Nash!”

  He stopped the moment he heard her call his name. He’d stalked through the police station, past those Men In Black looking Feds and pushed the glass door open so hard it was a good thing it was on automatic soft close hinges. A truck whizzed by and a horn blared somewhere in the distance, just as he turned around to face her.

  She looked so fuckin’ pretty standing there in black pants that fit her perfectly and knee-high camel colored suede boots that matched the leather jacket she wore. Her hair was loose and framed her face in soft waves, her eyes bright and inquisitive as always. And fuck, she smelled great. He’d tried to ignore the fact that he’d immediately picked up her scent when he saw her in the station, but as the wind was blowing around them, there was no mistaking it now.

  “I didn’t think you were part of this,” she said when he’d been too dumbstruck by being this close to her again to speak.

  She cleared her throat. “When I got the call to come down here, I didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t Henley.”

  He shook his head, guilt and anger battling for prominence inside of him. “I’m sorry,” he said, his throat raw with the words. “I’m sorry he did this to you and to Bell.”

  Because just like he’d told Henley, even though the man wasn’t here, what Henley had done was a slap in the face to all Bell had done for both of them.

  “You can’t apologize for him,” she said evenly. “You’re not responsible for this and Henley has to own up to his own shit.”

  Those words were spoken with an irritated edge that reminded him of the night of the burglary when she’d gone toe-to-toe with Earl. If Nash hadn’t been so blindsided by the admission she’d made that night he would’ve been totally turned on by that boss ass performance she’d put on.

  “You’re right,” he said and pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Otherwise, he was going to reach out and pull her to him. The urge to touch her, to have her body on his again was potent as hell. For all that he’d taken his vacation time to put some space between them so they could both think clearly about all that had happened, he still wanted her like an addict wanted their next fix. “But I think I owe you an apology too.”

  One of her perfectly arched brows lifted. “For?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest now and stared at him expectantly.

  If she knew that this sexy ass composed and focused vibe she was putting out had been exactly what had drawn him to her so quickly before, she might not be so fast to do it again. He was positive he hadn’t been what Mica expected when she’d come to town to save her father’s business. Hell, she damn sure wasn’t what he’d expected when he’d wondered about who was going to inherit the dealership.

  “I shouldn’t have walked away like I did the night of the burglary,” he said. In addition to all the other shit that had been shuffling around in his mind as he sat in his apartment these past few days, he’d known this one from the start. “I shouldn’t have been so angry with you for not telling me who you were when we first met. Especially since I was holding back a pretty big piece of information about myself as well.”

  To be fair, he hadn’t really thought there was a need to tell her about his past until the night they’d slept together. It wasn’t any of her business before then, especially since he had no idea she was actually his boss at the time.

  “I’ve thought a lot about that and I concluded that neither of us meant to be dishonest. We had no idea that things between us were going to um…go in the direction that they did, so we weren’t really prepared for the total honesty thing,” she said.

  “True,” he replied. “Are we going for the total honesty thing now?”

  She opened her mouth to say something and then clapped it shut quickly.

  Acting solely on instinct and because the few feet of distance between them had become too much for him to stand a second longer, he stepped closer to her. “I mean, now that I know you’re the owner of Bellamy Motors and you know I have a criminal record and a stupid ass brother, are things between us still going in that direction?”

  “Do you want things between us to continue going in that direction?” she asked. Her uncertainty was clear in the way she blinked slowly as she asked the question.

  But Nash was totally sure. He’d been pissed when he stormed out of the police station and was about to make the same mistake he’d made the night of the burglary.

  “I should’ve been clearer with you,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “I don’t really have any experience doing this because no woman has every meant enough to me to put forth the effort. But you, Ms. Michel Lynette Monroe, you were a very pleasant surprise. One I didn’t think I’d ever wanted.”