Primal Fury by Piper Davenport

Indigo

The day afteR the run-in with Cliff (which Bellamy and I referred to going forward as DNI, the ‘Douche Nozzle Incident’), I walked into my office to find Bellamy on the phone. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, and I was both excited, and terrified to find out why. I didn’t have to wait long.

“Holy fucking shit on a cracker,” Bellamy breathed out as she closed herself into my office with me.

“What now?”

“Cliff sent a donation of five-hundred grand.”

I snorted. “That’s a good one, Bell.”

“I’m not kidding. He wired it into the Walker House main account this morning. I was checking the books and thought it might be a mistake, so I first called the bank, and then called his office.”

“Bell—”

“No, wait, there’s more,” she rushed on.

I sighed, leaning against the edge of my desk. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my god, bitch, if you would shut up for more than ten seconds, I could tell you.”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms, and nodding. “Continue.”

“So, I called the bank… they said it’s legit. I called Cliff’s office and discovered he was on leave for a couple of weeks due to some kind of ‘accident,’ but that he’d authorized the donation and said that it would be matched right before Christmas.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I squeaked.

“Right?”

“What kind of accident?” I asked.

“Car, I think,” she said. “Apparently, he had a couple of broken bones or something. I didn’t get into it with Carol, because I don’t really give a shit.”

Carol was Cliff’s third assistant this year, and she seemed sweet, but that meant he would probably eat her alive.

“Bellamy,” I admonished.

“What? He attacked you, Indy. Right here, in case you don’t remember. The only thing that would be better than him having a few broken arms, is that his dick is ripped off, it flies up into the air, and lands in his esophagus choking him on it.”

“That’s quite graphic,” I pointed out. “And is there a way one can break more than a few arms?”

“Both arms!” She threw hers in the air. “You know what I mean, but definitely the dick choking stuff.”

She had a point, not about the dick stuff… well, not just about the dick stuff… but I wasn’t bloodthirsty quite like that and I tended to feel guilty when thinking ill of someone. Especially, if they’d been hurt.

“Anyway,” Bellamy continued. “It’s all legit. Like, lawyered up and shit, so we’ll be getting another half-mil at Christmas.”

“That’s four times his normal donation.”

“I know,” she squealed, jumping up and down.

“We can add room for another fifteen kids.”

“Or, you could give us a raise,” she joked.

I rolled my eyes. “I need to process this.”

“I figured. I’ll forward you the emails,” she said, and walked out of my office while I lowered myself into my chair and dropped my head into my hands.

Shenanigans were afoot.

What kind of shenanigans, however, I had no idea. Frowning, I did a quick interweb search for car accidents near or around Monument yesterday, and as I suspected, I found nothing. Something low in my gut was stirring and I had no idea if it was a real premonition, or just the bagel I’d grabbed on my way out the door.

I decided to figure it out and picked up my phone.

“Potion, how may I help you?” a young woman’s voice answered.

“Ah, hi, ah, is Hyde Roberts available, please?”

“Hyde? Who?”

“Sorry,” I rushed out. “Jekyll. Is Jekyll available?”

“Oh, sure. Hold on.”

I bit my lip as I waited… and waited.

“Jekyll here.”

“Hi. Ah, it’s—”

“Indigo?”

I wrinkled my nose. God, his voice was sexy. “Yes. Hi.”

“You okay?”

“Yes, fine. Um, I have a question, and I think it might be a stupid one, but…”

“Spit it out, GoGo,” he encouraged.

“Cliff Thayer,” I said.

“Piece of shit asshole?”

“Yep, that’d be the one,” I confirmed.

“What about him?”

“He has apparently been involved in some kind of accident.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“And he’s donated five-hundred thousand dollars to Walker House.”

“No shit?” he said, but he didn’t sound surprised at all.

I swallowed convulsively. “Did you have anything to do with that?” I rasped.

“What could I possibly have to do with a couple of sizable donations some asshole decided to make.”

“A couple? I didn’t say there were a couple.”

There was a slight pause before he chuckled. “My next appointment’s here, I gotta go.”

“Hyde, what did you do?”

“Nothing but I’ll see you when you pick up Leo this afternoon.”

“Bryan’s picking him up, actually. I have a late meeting and I’m not sure if I’ll get out of here on time.”

“Then, we’ll talk when I pick you up for dinner.”

“Oka—wait, what?” I shook my head. “No, I’m not going to dinner with you.”

“Seven work?”

“Hyde—”

“I’ll pick you up at your place,” he said over me. “Wear jeans so you can ride.”

“I—”

I heard the click of the phone and let out a frustrated groan. I couldn’t go to dinner with him.

Jesus.

I’d be pregnant by dessert.

* * *

My doorbell pealed at seven-oh-one, and I let out a series of curses. Of course he was on time. How the hell he knew where I lived, I have no idea, but I’d secretly hoped he’d get lost bad enough not to show.

I took a deep breath, peeking through my peephole before pulling my door open. “Hi.”

“Hey, GoGo. You look cute, but I thought we talked about jeans,” he said.

I was currently wearing shorts because I honestly didn’t think he’d make it. “Um… well…”

“Quit fuckin’ around, baby. Go change.”

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea for us to go out to dinner,” I said.

“You hungry?”

My stomach grumbled and I sighed. “Obviously.”

“Okay, then I’m gonna feed you. We can talk about Leo at the same time.”

I gasped. “What’s wrong with Leo?”

“Nothin’s wrong with Leo,” he said. “Just want to run something by you. Now, go get jeans on so we can ride.”

“Um…”

“Indigo,” he pressed. “Jeans.”

“Right.” I threw my hands up in defeat. “I’ll be quick.”

I rushed to pull on jeans and boots, grabbing my leather jacket (that was cool as hell, in my humble opinion), and returned to Jekyll. He was on his phone and his distraction gave me a second to take him in.

He wore dark blue jeans, motorcycle boots that could probably kill someone if he chose to use them as a weapon, and a beat-up leather jacket with his club’s logo on the back. He ran his fingers through his beard as he talked, and I couldn’t stop myself from licking my lips.

Which he saw, raising an eyebrow as he continued his conversation.

Goddammit.

“Yeah, brother. Tomorrow’s good. Okay, see you then.” He hung up and grinned. “You look like a badass.”

I blushed. “Well, that’s what I was going for, so…”

He chuckled. “Ready?”

I nodded, grabbing my purse, and following him out to his bike. He took my purse and secured it in one of his side box thingies, then he handed me a helmet. “You need me to show you how to get on?”

I shook my head. “I think I can figure it out.”

After putting our helmets on, Jekyll swung his leg over the bike and steadied it while I used the foot pegs on the back to climb on behind him.

“Wrap your arms around me tight,” he directed. “If you need to stop, tap my chest. Got it?”

“Got it,” I promised, sliding my hands around his unbelievably tight waist.

Oh my god. Can a woman get a boner? ’Cause, I’m not gonna lie, I had one.

He started the bike and the rattle of the pipes vibrated me in places not even my battery-operated boyfriend could reach.

Lady boner, indeed.

We drove for about fifteen minutes before I figured out where we were heading, and I got excited all over again. We left the suburbs of Monument and drove through Colorado Springs to a hole in the wall Mexican place that had become my favorite the second I first ate here. It was technically a food truck built into the side of a building and it was the best Mexican food in all of Colorado, in my opinion.

I gave Jekyll a squeeze and his hand settled over my arm. “You okay?” he bellowed.

“Yes!” I yelled back. “Excited.”

His body wobbled with a chuckle as he pulled into the parking lot beside the truck. He turned off the engine and I swung myself off the bike as gracefully as I could.

Once I was safely on the ground, Jekyll swung off and helped me with my helmet before dealing with his own. “I take it, this works?”

I grinned. “It’s only my favorite place in all the world.”

“You don’t get out much, do you?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe not.”

He smiled, grabbing my hand, and tugging me toward the order window. “Come on, GoGo, let’s go pig out.”

We ordered and he paid (again), then we sat at one of the outdoor tables while we waited for our food.

“What did you want to talk about?” I jumped right in.

“Whatever you want, beautiful.”

“About Leo, I mean.”

“Right.” He smiled, but that smile didn’t meet his eyes. “His phone.”

“Is broken,” I said. “Dead, dead.”

“Yeah, well, he really needs a smart phone.”

“He can’t afford a smart phone,” I said.

“Which brings me to this.” He pulled a phone out of his pocket and slid it across the table toward me.

“That looks like a smart phone,” I said.

“It is.”

“I already have a phone.” I slid it back. “But thanks.”

He returned it. “I thought I’d give it to Leo.”

“Well, it’s the thought that counts.” I settled two fingers on top of it and slid it back again.

He slid it back to me. “As a safety measure, I like my employees to have tracking software on their phones, and even if his phone wasn’t busted, it’s too old and outdated to install the necessary security app.”

“Cool story, bro.” I, once again, slid the phone back to him, but he placed his hand on top of mine, and the phone stopped in the middle of the table.

“Indigo, this is business.”

“Hyde, he is too much of a punk to be responsible for such an expensive phone. And if he were to break it, or whatever, I don’t have the funds to replace it.”

“I’m not asking you to replace it.” He removed his hand and I suddenly felt cold. “I’ll take full responsibility for it. It has my number programmed in, and he cannot get to any apps unless you enter a code, of your choosing, to allow him access.”

I sighed, then registered what he’d originally said. “Your employees?”

“He’s doin’ a really great job, GoGo. Was thinkin’, provided you sign the authorization, I’d offer him a job.”

“Oh my god, he would love that,” I breathed out.

“I’ll make sure he has a ride to and from if you can’t do it, and he’ll be protected. Always.”

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.

“What?”

“Taking care of him.”

Jekyll smiled. “I like him, GoGo… and I don’t like most people… certainly not ones who aren’t old enough to drink. He’s a good kid and he does a fuckin’ stellar job. Who wouldn’t want to hire someone like that?”

“He is a good kid who’s had a shitty start and middle. I want him to succeed in everything he works for because he does work. Hard.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“So, yes, I’ll sign the authorization for him to work,” I said. “Thank you for watching out for him.”

“And the phone?”

“Yes, the phone. I’ll give him that as well.”

“Thanks, baby.”

Our number was called which gave me a good excuse to ignore his endearment. He went to retrieve the food while I shoved the new phone in my purse and silently tried to process this newfound generosity from the sexy biker.

“Tell me about Walker House,” Jekyll said, setting our food on the table and taking his seat again.

“What do you want to know?” I asked, dipping a chip in the salsa and taking a bite.

“How did Leo end up there?”

“His parents were both addicts and he ended up in foster care four years ago. He did not do well, and it was either a halfway house, juvie, or us.” I smiled. “He won me over, and for the most part, he’s a good kid. Just has trust issues.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“How did you get involved with your club?”

“That’s a story for another day,” he said, taking a bite of his taco.

“Gotcha.”

The rest of the night was low-key and somewhat monosyllabic. Jekyll wasn’t a big talker, especially when it came to his personal life. I found I was doing most of the talking, so I decided to step back a bit and conserve my energy. I focused on enjoying my food before he drove me home.

There was no kiss at my doorway, but he did hug me gently, then left me to my thoughts and my vibrator.