Prince Charming (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Book 9) Read online

  His two brows shot up. “Now?”

  “Da.”

  Understanding his bewildered look. It was a little after 6 a.m. Then he nodded. “Sure, Anna. Let’s get some clothes on, or we’ll freeze to death.”

  Ten minutes later she was wearing a pair of Tag’s gloves and a scarf he curled around her neck five times under her coat.

  Clinging tight as a sloth, she yelled for him to go faster, catching his laughter over the engine and bracing breeze.

  He took the corners swiftly, making her feel as though she were weightless.

  It was pure magic.

  On a straight part of the road, Tag increased velocity, and she locked her thighs in place and held her arms out straight, turning her face up to the sky and smiled.

  One day she’d be free again, and it would feel amazing.

  Like all good things in Marianna’s life, it came to a halt all too soon as Tag slowed and pulled into a row of stores. She was about to ask him why, then saw the reason as he cursed and switched off the engine.

  Across the street, his friend was slouched over his knees on the curb, looking exhausted. Oh, dear. Seven a.m. Was the man drunk?

  Tag stepped down from his bike and turned to her. He looked regretful. “Sorry, Anna. I gotta check he’s okay, can’t leave him out here.”

  “Of course you can’t,” She nodded, “Is there something I can do?”

  “Nah. Won’t be long.”

  They were too far away for her to hear. Tag went down on his haunches, put a hand on the other man’s shoulder, their heads close together.

  She didn’t have a good feeling about this.

  Her empathy kicked in for Arson. She didn’t have to like the man to hope he got help soon.

  Knowing from experience how addictions stole people, she prayed Arson was strong enough to fight.

  * * *

  It was like looking at someone Tag didn’t know.

  Which was crazy because they’d been through a lot.

  Tag knew Arson. The guy was reliable, loyal as fuck. He was a good guy with a dry wit and a love of life.

  Looking at him now as Tag went down on his haunches, it was as though Arson couldn’t give a fuck about his own life anymore.

  “Hey, bud. What are you doing out here so early?”

  “Tag, bro. Where did you come from?” There was no smell of booze on him, but it didn’t mean the guy wasn’t sauced. He’d gotten good at being a high functioning drunk for too long and it was only recently people noticed.

  “Waiting for a prospect to pick my ass up.” Arson flashed a grin, tipping off to the side to look around Tag. “You got the Russian girl on the back of your bike.”

  Yeah. Arson knew that shit meant something. He wasn’t about to deny it. “Yeah, I have. Gimme a second.” He rose and headed back over to her. She had worried eyes. “I have to stay with him, Marianna, make sure he gets home okay. I’m gonna call a prospect to drive you home, it’s too cold for you to wait around.”

  “I am from Russia, Sir.” She half-smiled and he felt it in his gut.

  This wasn’t how he planned for their first morning together. He was gonna take her home, make her breakfast, then put her little butt on the counter and eat his fill. His tongue was parched for her.

  “And I’m very used to the colder climate, but do not bother one of your helper boys. I can walk from here.”

  “Fuck that,” he growled.

  “It is not far.” She stopped him from protesting by putting her hand on his chest. “Your friend.” She started, “this isn’t the first time I have seen him inebriated so early. He comes into your gym often to chat to the ladies.”

  “Anna, this isn’t who he is, yeah?” She’d like the Arson he was before.

  Her blink said she was unconvinced. “My father was the same.” Huh. So was his. Didn’t enjoy knowing they had that in common. “They don’t change, Luke. I don’t want you to get entangled in someone’s addiction when they don’t want to help themselves.”

  God, this woman. He dropped his forehead and pressed it gently to hers. Fucking hating that his morning plans were now down the drain. “I like you wanna look out for me, darlin’. Arson will be okay, gonna make sure of it.”

  “Get some food into him.” Then added. “Let me say this one thing. It is not my place, but… please learn to know when to walk away.”

  Tag frowned.

  Whatever shit she’d been through with a drunk father, Arson wasn’t the same.

  Hell, Tag’s old man spent enough time on the streets. Booze killed him eventually, so he was adamant nothing would happen to Arson, if he could help it.

  She left him with a kiss to his cold cheek, and he hated he was letting her walk the two blocks home, feeling torn down the middle, loyalty to his brother and his woman. He watched her as far as the corner when she turned and disappeared out of sight.

  He fished in his pocket and sent her a text.

  Tag: Let me know when you get there, Anna.

  The text came four minutes later.

  Striding back to Arson, who hadn’t moved an inch, he parked his ass on the cold sidewalk, kicking his legs out in front of him.

  “Which prospect did you call?”

  “Fuck. Eh. Can’t remember.”

  Shit. Tag put a call through to Slider and got the tired guy out of bed. “Yeah, Boss?”

  “Need a pickup asap.” He gave the location.

  “Got it, Boss. Let me throw some clothes on and kick this chick out of my bed, won’t be long.”

  The silence was deafening.

  Until now, Tag tap danced around this shit, not wanting to embarrass his buddy. But there came a time—and that time was fucking now, that something had to be said and it had to be said without being coated in sugar.

  “Brother, you have to stop doing this before you fucking drown, you get me? You’re in way over your head and I don’t want to have to bury you. I don’t want to be the one to tell your mom you’re no longer here.”

  A gust of air exited Arson’s chest, but he didn’t speak, not at first. He let both arms hang limply on his knees as he leaned forward.

  “You remember that night—fuck when was it, five, maybe six years ago? Anyway, it was a party in Jamie Steele’s territory. You’d just won against that crazy Texan, and a pile of chicks were all over us.”

  Tag half-smiled. “Yeah, buddy, I remember. It was a good weekend.”

  “It really was. Shit felt … different back then, didn’t it?”

  “Different how?” They were in a club war back then, fighting with Hades’ Raging Rebels. It was also the start of Tag’s cage fighting jaunt.

  Things were different then, but better? Not so much.

  “I don’t know. Everything is hard now. I don’t fit in.” This time when Arson sighed, he leaned back, putting his hands on the sidewalk, casting his head sideways to look at Tag.

  “You mean with the club?”

  “No. Yeah. I don’t know. I’m fucking up, Tag. I’ve been fucking up for a long time. Why the fuck would anyone want me there? My patch is only decoration. I contribute nothing. Don’t blow smoke up my ass, we both know it’s true.”

  “I wasn’t gonna. You have been fucking up, you’re hardly around, we’ve picked up your slack. But you know what? We want you around. No one wants you to destroy yourself.”

  “No one wants to self-destruct, brother. It just happens.”

  That statement chilled him to the bone.

  “What the fuck is going on, Arson? Talk to me, tell me how I can help.”

  Right on cue, his friend cracked a smile that covered up a multitude of sins and truths. He ran a hand through his long hair and replied, “I’m gonna be alright, bro. You don’t gotta worry about me. Concentrate on your Russian girl. I want you to get that slice of good, you deserve it.”

  They heard the trundling engine of one of the Souls SUV trucks.

  “The fuck does that even mean? You’re not alright, Arson. You haven’t b
een alright in a long time. Talk to me.”

  Arson rose to his feet.

  Tag followed suit and grabbed his friend’s leather jacket. The pair were almost nose to nose in a standoff when Tag spoke through his clenched teeth. “Don’t be a fucking idiot, Jase. Tell me what you need so we can help you. We’re not gonna lose you to a bottle, not happening, brother.”

  It was a shared look of understanding between the men, and for a moment, Tag thought he might have gotten through to him. And then Arson’s mask locked in place as he smiled and walked backward toward the idling truck. “You’re good people, Luke, make sure the chick knows it.”

  He didn’t like this shit one bit.

  Bikers were notorious for hitting the self-destruct button.

  No man who joined the ranks of any MC would tell you he had all his shit together. There were always demons in his past somewhere.

  Arson’s demons were winning, and Tag could feel his buddy slipping away.

  There was no chance to catch up with Arson, he discovered later that night.

  Because for the next three weeks, Arson disappeared. Zero contact, his phone turned off. No idea if the guy was dead or alive.

  Tag sighed, started up his bike, and rode off toward the club.

  He couldn’t help his brother, not unless he locked him up.

  But there was still something he could do for his girl.

  It was a long shot, but he had to try.

  Any hope was better than none was Tag’s way of thinking.

  TWENTY

  “A duel among broccoli.” - Marianna

  The clerks working in the local Save a Lot market always greeted Marianna like they were old friends.

  As aloof as she’d tried to be, it was impossible not to get swept up in their friendliness. Every Wednesday, she looked forward to what neighborhood gossip they’d share with her. The ladies were in their sixties but completely outrageous with no filter.

  They smelled of lavender and pine, and she found herself yanked into a hug when she handed over two small Christmas gifts. “Oh, you are just the sweetest girl. How did you know we loved chocolates? It’s my damn hips, isn’t it? Anyway, let me grab your gift from my purse.” Selma declared.

  “You did not have to do that.” Marianna protested with surprise.

  “Of course, we did. It’s Christmas, and that’s what friends do.”

  They made her open the gift right there at the checkout.

  The snow globe almost made Marianna cry.

  It didn’t cost her a penny to stand and chat to them for a few minutes. It was pretty obvious she got more out of it than they did.

  “You should be dating.” Selma declared as she clicked her tongue and served a young man buying beer and candy. “A pretty girl like you needs a strong man around the house.”

  “The only place you need a man is in the bedroom, Selma.” Chimed Kirstie, her shocking white hair was puffed in tight curls on top of her head, wearing a light up festive headband. Utterly delightful, Marianna thought with a grin.

  She didn’t tell them about Tag, though the urge to share with someone was strong.

  He’d been busy for a couple of days, he called though. She was buying steak and potatoes for dinner tonight in case he stopped by.

  The woman in Marianna’s path took her by surprise when she left the ladies. She’d almost reached the electronic doors, ready for the snowy walk back to her apartment. One of these days she’d get a license and save for a car. If today’s meeting went well, she’d be on her way to having all the legal documentation she’d ever need.

  She recognized Sofia from the bar, the one all over Tag. Up close, it was clear to see her beauty. It wasn’t easy for Marianna to forget how jealous she’d felt over her.

  “Don’t I know you?” Sofia asked.

  From the attitude rolling off the woman, she wasn’t about to beg Marianna to go Christmas carol singing with her. This was about Tag. She hoped her eggs wouldn’t get broken in a festive duel.

  “No,” she answered carefully. “We haven’t met before.”

  “Nah, I’m sure I know you.”

  Marianna smiled a little. It wasn’t with humor.

  She’d forgotten how territorially bitchy women became.

  Did women have standoffs over a man?

  She was about to find out.

  “Oh, I know where I’ve seen you.” The woman feigned, like she hadn’t had her speech ready the moment she spotted her.

  Marianna indulged her. “Yes? Where is that?”

  “Tag’s gym. Yeah, I go in there quite a lot.”

  “Okay. Do you mind getting out of my way?” Marianna tried to sidestep, but the path was blocked again, and she raised an eyebrow. “Something to say to me?”

  “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  Astute. What gave it away, she wondered sarcastically.

  “Let me make this easy for you.” Surprise flared in the woman’s eyes. Though Marianna kept her voice hushed, she wasn’t here to play games. “You dated Tag. You know he’s my boss, and you saw me in the bar recently with his friends. Now you’re dying to know who I am to him or to give a warning to stay away from your man. Am I wrong?”

  The woman didn’t miss a step as her fake smile dropped, “I don’t need to. Tag and I are casual, we see each other when we want to. He stayed over last night, I’ll tell him hello from you. But if you’ve set your feelings at his feet, I’d think again, trying to help a sister out, you know?”

  Do not bother, Marianna wanted to tell her.

  Whether the woman was being vindictive or was a born liar, a snatch of doubt clutched at Marianna. Where was Tag last night? Was he with this woman?

  She’d never asked him, and he hadn’t volunteered that kind of information to her. Naturally assuming he was single because of how he’d been pursuing her.

  Now she was not sure, and she hated the uncertainty.

  Sofia wore a smirk like she knew she’d hit her mark.

  Marianna wouldn’t give the woman the satisfaction of knowing she’d rattled her as she held tight to her groceries and left without a word.

  Not before she’d heard, “I guess we’ll be seeing lots of each other now.”

  Not if Marianna had anything to do with it.

  The last thing she needed was to get embroiled in a tug of war over a man.

  She didn’t realize she’d walked so fast until she stopped at the side of the Dairy Queen to catch her breath. Puffs of air left her lips. Her brain, without permission, churned over doubtful thoughts.

  Marianna, in such a slow yet extraordinary way, had formed an attachment to Tag, without knowing for sure if he were free to attach to.

  Pushing it from her mind, she wasn’t afforded the luxury of having silly female thoughts. Not when she had somewhere important to be soon. Rushing home, she unpacked the groceries, washed up and then set off for the bus.

  It took her across town into Westbank Falls.

  Unfamiliar with the dilapidated area. She walked for a long time until she reached the building she was to meet her contact at. Thankful of the gloves and scarf Tag insisted she carry with her when snow flurries fell gently.

  Oh, my God, it looked like the scene for murders and rapes you see on CNN.

  A cold snatch of fear clutched Marianna’s belly.

  She really would round up the shittiest year by getting herself killed.

  Ten minutes went by and not one car yet.

  Another fifteen and she was thinking she’d wasted an entire afternoon on this mercy errand. What could she do if this crashed? Where could she turn to next?

  It was then on the horizon she saw a blue Sedan taking the turning.

  All alone, no one knew she’d gone on this errand.

  If something went wrong, no one would know.

  Stupid. She was making one stupid mistake after another.

  The coat collar brushed her cold ears, and she stuffed her hands down into the pockets as she watched
the car pull into the parking bay.

  Who went to a clandestine meeting without a weapon? Ugh. Had the last year taught her nothing? Some would say she was too stupid to live. She could kickbox like a fifth grader, but her new confidence was withering as fast as the falling snow.

  The beat of her pulse was loud through her ears as she observed a tall, reedy man unfold himself from the car. Wearing black jeans, boots, and a worn denim jacket. His hair was longer than most men and he swept it back as he depressed a button, and his car beeped the alarm.

  “Marianna?” He asked, eyes unreadable.

  Feeling unsafe, she really went in with both feet without thinking this through to the end. Though she was doing something else extremely law breaking, it wasn’t like she could have this conversation at the local diner.

  “Yes, that’s me. Are you Mister G?”

  It was a foolish action movie name. She didn’t think for a second they called him that.

  “How does this work?”

  “First, you tell me what you want, then if you have the cash to pay for it.”

  She wasn’t dumb to tell him she had eight hundred dollars in her inside pocket.

  “I need four passports and a social security ID.”

  Snow fell on his dark hair as he rocked on his heels. He fished in his pocket and brought out a toothpick; it went between his teeth. “Do you have photos like I asked you to bring?”

  “Yes.”

  “Seven fifty.”

  Marianna blinked. “Seven thousand?” Her heart sank down to her feet.

  “No, babe. $750. Cash up front and you get them when they’re ready.”

  “How do I know you won’t run off with my money?”

  He smirked then. A slimy twitch of his thin lips as he looked her up and down. “You don’t. Do you want them or not?”

  Ugh. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. With little choice but to trust this man. Swallowing her sigh, she fished out the envelope of money and the photos needed. He flipped through it all. “Cute kids. Yours?”

  Marianna rolled her lips together, “when will they be ready?”

  “Shit like this takes time. I’ll call you when it’s done.”