The day had come. The start to her new life for however long was necessary. Along with her new life, came a motorcycle and a fully furnished apartment. It all looked great on paper, but the real deal was a bit opposite.
Evelyn opened the door to her new old place and sighed. It wasn't that it was a dump, because it wasn't. It was just...not her own fancy digs she was used to. This building had to be at least one hundred years old. She could tell from the architecture. And, while it was clean, it had definitely seen better days.
Running her hand along the wall as she walked in, she wondered just how many stories the walls could tell. Probably hundreds, no doubt. Evelyn's eyes settled on a few boxes of clothing and items she would need for the job, the movers delivered. She was happy she had arranged that ahead of time.
After getting settled, she decided a cup of tea was in order. Evelyn drummed her fingertips on the counter while she waited for the water to boil. She needed a plan. What to do first? Probably find him. Find him, gain his attention and hope to attract him. Wait. Her mind flashed back to the day at the coffee shop. Did he say he was married? She had a vague memory of talking about a girlfriend or wife. What the hell was it? Crap.
Oh well. She'd wing it. First things first. She would need to scout the area. Drive around and see what she could see. It certainly helped she knew the city already. So that was good. She just needed to get a feel for who hung out where. She had an idea, it just wasn't one hundred percent.
She needed to watch which bars these biker dudes hung out at and when. There was also a strip club nearby. The biker nerds probably hung out there too. She could go and scope the place.
Too bad she didn't have a car yet. Some of the surveillance jobs would be better handled with one. She would need to add it to her priority list. In the meantime, she could rent one if she really needed.
Taking a sip of her tea, Evelyn took a peek out her living room window. It really was the best place to be. Right in the heart of the city. It was where all the action was. She would be able to monitor who cruised the main drag. Of course the downside was that if she made any enemies along the way, she'd be easily found. It was a risk she was willing to take. Besides, it wasn't like anything bad was going to happen. She was a professional.
She knew her business. The business of man, she liked to refer to it as. While it was true she was very young, she was a quick learner. For as long as she could remember, her mother was always bringing home different boyfriends. It was pretty easy to figure out what guys wanted most out of women. And, lucky for her, she had one right between her legs.
Grinning, Evelyn tossed the rest of her tea down the drain deciding to get to work. Rummaging through her clothes boxes, she managed to find a pair of snug black jeggings, tight v-neck t-shirt, and riding boots. Evelyn tapped her bottom lip.
"Where the hell is my brand new push up bra? I need that sucker," Evelyn growled frustrated, tossing clothes out of the box and over her shoulder. "Titty casket...come out, come out, wherever you are," she called soft. "Where are you, you little bitch?" After several minutes, she finally found it with a sigh of relief. "I hate you."
Evelyn was about to get dressed when she decided a shower was in order. While she smelled normal--at least she figured she did--she couldn't take any chances. She needed to smell good enough to eat. Literally. A shiver went up her spine. Maybe one little peek at the pic she took of biker nerd wouldn't hurt. She needed to refresh her memory anyway.
Grabbing her phone, she brought up the picture she had taken at the coffee shop. Ah. There he was in all his gorgeous glory. Several months had passed since she snapped the pic. Did he still look that good? Time would tell--hopefully.
During the past several months of her research, she tried to find any information out on Mr. Laurent. She couldn't find shit. She scoured social media, did court checks on him, the whole shebang. There was a couple traffic citations, but they were old and the addresses were outdated according to the FBI. So, really, she had no clue as to where he lived.
The FBI also told her about some of the businesses they ran, but it wasn't like she could apply. Their businesses consisted of laundry mats and car washes. All self-service shit. Why couldn't they run an auto shop like normal bikers? Or was that only in the movies and romance novels?
The file she was given didn't provide much help either. What was up with that? Mr. Manning warned her how dangerous the job was, but didn't give her any info. At least useful info. Nice. Whatever. It was fine. The less she knew, the better. That way, her reactions would be genuine. And, anyway, she'd find Mr. Laurent. Couldn't be that hard as long as he still lived in town, or state. Hell, as long as he still lived in the country.
After finishing with her shower and blow drying her hair, she took a peek at her shoulder. Her stitches looked good. Nothing looked infected. That was a relief.
While she dressed, she thought up another back story. Sure she should have thought of this before, but she was a procrastinator. Nothing came easy to her if she planned. Things went so much better on the fly. So what would it be?
Evelyn scrunched her nose gathering all of her makeup. Just a little mascara to accentuate her violet-blue eyes, a touch of blush and rose-colored liquid lip. It was all she really needed with her hair color being what anyone would notice first. Plus, she didn't want to look like she was trying too hard.
Which was a good point. She needed to look like she had her shit together. Looking at Mr. Laurent's picture and based on the interaction she had with him at the coffee shop, he was a proud man. Dominant. Whether he was married or not, he would want to dominate her and that wasn't gonna happen. Wait. If she was submissive, then she could get more information out of him. Possibly.
However, if she played the sub, she ran the risk of him keeping her separated from the rest of the team. His need to protect her would come out, and she couldn't have that. Evelyn looked at herself in the mirror.
"That would only happen if he claimed you as his," she bit her lip looking at her butt. "Of course he's gonna want this," she snorted, rolling her eyes over her self-doubt.
Back to her story. So, she was an independent woman who wasn't part of any group. Just riding around the country on her own terms. Like a...nomad. Yeah. She didn't need anyone or anything. But what made her so hard? Jilted love? Nah. Too overplayed. Abusive relationship? Nah. She didn't want to incite his papa-bear instincts. Her eyes widened with an idea. What if she had a secret of her own? What if Scarlet was a criminal herself on the lamb from the authorities?
Scarlet could be her own gang. A one woman band. That was how she got the scar! She was in a tussle. So what criminal acts did she commit? It had to be something believable. Drugs? Nah. Too risky. That was all she would need for someone to doubt her story and tell her to take something to prove herself. Yeah, screw that.
The drug idea reminded her of the time she tried to drug Liam. He wanted her that night. If she hadn't thought fast, she would have been de-virginized. That was it! She hustled men out of their money, making them think she had sex with them. But little did they know, she drugged them before the act was done. Then, one day, one of the men caught her--which actually happened with Liam. But instead of talking her way out of it, like she did, he stabbed her! And she ran for her life, escaping in the nick of time.
"Ooh. That's a great story. I wish I could call Biddy. I'll have to write this shit down. This is gold."
A regular soap opera plot to be sure! Of course, she would keep this back story to herself and tell no one. That's what good criminals did. Good criminals never did it and maintained they were innocent.
Evelyn went to the mirror and hardened her face. "What? I didn't do it. Tsk," she practiced her sneer. A wide smile crept over her face. She was good. Actually, she could probably be an actress.
Her story was great, and so were her acting chops. This job was in the bag. Rubbing her hands together, she felt ready. It was a beautiful day, she looked hotter than hell, and she had a nice bike. Show time.
Grabbing her leather jacket and keys, she locked up her place and trotted down the stairs. She would ride past the coffee shop first, then wherever her gut directed. Her gut never let her down. Ever.
Swinging her leg over her new horse, Evelyn settled her rear on the solo seat with a wiggle. Her black aviators were perched atop her head, and she reached up to bring them down with a smirk. Now that she actually had this beast, she could use all the cool biker lingo. Why? Because she...was a biker. Heh.
"Oh yeah," she whispered.
Evelyn stuck the key into the ignition, flicked the run button, pulled in the clutch and pressed start. The short pipes gave the bike a throaty melody when it came to life.
It was hard to resist running her fingers over the cool, satin surface of her matte tank. Sexy. The entire bike was. There was not one speck of chrome on her baby. All of it was matte black. Not only did it look awesome, it was also convenient. There wouldn't be any chrome to worry about polishing, which was a bonus.
The only thing she needed to add were some bags. Since she didn't have a car, she needed storage for when she went to the store. Other than that, she was ready to roll. Time to look for Mr. Judas Laurent. Nah. Scratch that. Mr. Judas Sex on Wheels Laurent. Wait. That wasn't right either. Mr. Judas Sex on Wheels Biker Nerd Laurent. Yeah. Oh yeah.
"Nice set up."
Evelyn turned her head ever so slightly to the side. A young dude had just come out of the apartment building. Was he a biker? Could he possibly know Judas? She nodded instead of answering. While she had questions for this young lad, she would play it cool. Actually, looking at the kid, he seemed more of the college type.
Thinking he was going to keep walking, he came closer. Oh no. Stay back. Actually, sure, come on over. This was a good opportunity to try her acting skills as a biker.
"You new here?"
"Just moved in," Evelyn leaned back, dragging her hand up her thigh to rest while her bike idled. She kept her sunglasses in place and her face relaxed.
"Cool, cool." The boy rubbed the back of his neck with a lopsided smile. "So, what's your name?"
"You're a college student?" She ignored his question for one of her own.
"Yeah!" he brightened. "Are you?"
"Do I look like one?"
"No, I suppose not," he blushed with a nervous chuckle.
Evelyn smiled and revved the engine with a tilt of her head. Get the hint, little boy. I gotta roll. Daylight was burning. It really wasn't, but she had a job to do.
"Um, so I'll see you around then? I mean...since you live here now and all. My name's Craig, by the way."
Evelyn gave the gearshift a tap down. "Scar."
"Scar? Whoa. That's a cool name. What's it short for?"
Evelyn raised her hand and waved bye-bye to the guy, then gave the bike a little throttle and let out the clutch. That went well. She gave him just enough attention to keep his intrigue, but not enough to show she was warm and fuzzy. Because she wasn't nice. She was Scar. Scar the biker chick. Not to be confused with biker babe. She wasn't a biker babe or one to ride bitch. No way. Scar would never ride on the back of anyone's bike. She had her own.
This matte black stallion needed a name too. Evelyn navigated the city streets with ease among the light traffic, her mind on her bike's name. What could it be? Licorice? Nah. Lame. Jelly bean? That was the same as licorice because it tasted like it. So that was a no go. Coffee bean? Ooh, that reminded her. She needed to ride past the coffee shop. Evelyn made her way there and could see from a distance there were only a few cars in the parking lot--no bikes.
He wasn't there. Actually, she should stop inside. The last time she saw him, he purchased a coffee. Unless he drank it in the parking lot--which he didn't because he wasn't there when she left--he must have been in a car or truck. Time to scope it out.
Memories of that day rushed her, but she brushed them aside. It wasn't like she actually missed Liam. Because she didn't. They were just memories. But one thing she couldn't dismiss was the same cashier waiting for her order that she had given so much trouble to. Did the woman notice her? She didn't seem to. Maybe she'd order a coffee and chill out for a second. She needed to think of all the places she wanted to ride.
After ordering a black coffee, she stood off to the side and waited. The cashier definitely didn't recognize her. It probably helped she kept her sunglasses on. Plus, her hair was the color of fire compared to her platinum locks. She really missed that hair. Now that she had red, she had a feeling she was going to be stuck with it until it grew out. It was fine, with the red was gold highlights. It looked pretty rad.
After getting her coffee, she sat down and removed her glasses. She needed to look a few places up using her phone. There was the strip club about twenty miles away. She could go there, but had a feeling bikers probably went at night. Plus, she didn't want to attract too much unwanted attention walking in without a date.
Taking a sip of her drink, she looked up all of the bars in the area. Maybe if she narrowed down which bars were the biker bars, things would be easier. Bikers always hung out at bars no matter the time of day. Right? Oh! And then there were the laundry mats and car washes. How many were there in town?
One of each. Evelyn frowned. One of each? How the hell did they make any legit money? They probably didn't need to. Especially since they were cyber criminals. They made enough steeling people's identities and sucking money out of accounts or some shit. At least that's what she assumed they did.
Regardless, she would swing by and see what she could see. Throwing her near empty cup away, she headed out. First stop would be to drive past the laundry mat. Maybe one of the club members were there to empty out machines. Why they would be doing that in the middle of the day was beyond her, but it was worth a try.
On her way, Evelyn noticed a few dudes looking at her from their car. Yeah, she looked hot. Look and weep boys. Look. And. Weep. Being conceited was fun. Especially when her persona was entirely fake. It felt like Halloween!
As predicted, there were only a few cars in the lot with people inside doing their laundry. Hell, she was probably gonna be a customer too. The apartment building she lived in, didn't have washer or driers. It was gonna suck having to lug her clothes and wait. Whatever.
Twisting the throttle, she rode on past the carwash. Again, customers. Where the hell were these bikers? Probably the bars. There were a few that could be pegged biker bars after looking up their websites.
There was nothing to lose. The first bar was called Licked Wicked. Sounded more like a strip club than a regular bar. There were a few bikes outside, but not a ton. She pressed on until she came across the second potential, The Hop. Sounded like a fifties place. There weren't any bikes outside. Maybe it was a fifties place. Sucking in a deep breath, she decided to find the third bar.
This place was a good potential. It had a bunch of bikes outside of it. Evelyn looked at the sign. The bar was called Mad Dog Saloon. Seemed appropriate. If she had a friend with her, she would have went in. But, even so, it was too soon. Today was designated for getting the feel for things. She would come up with a plan for getting in without attracting too much attention later.
If this was the club's hangout, the last thing she wanted was to give off one-night-stand vibes. She was a serious rider. She had to be taken seriously.
Thus far she had a story for her scar, kind of, not the one she recited to Biddy. Her scar story would remain a mystery to others. She would just simply say she didn't want to talk about it. It would give her time to come up with something believable, other than her weird hustle story.
The more and more she thought about that story, the more and more she lost her confidence about it. So, it was a problem again. What was a reasonable story that brought her to town? Evelyn kept riding around as she thought up another fake history. Perhaps she needed a change of scenery. Yeah. That was good. Ooh. She needed a change of scenery because she just got divorced, and staying in the same city wasn't working out because he was a biker as well. Not affiliated with any clubs, of course. Now she was getting somewhere.
Although, if she was going to put herself up close and personal with Mr. Laurent, she'd better have a bunch of sleeping pills with her because she couldn't risk him finding out about her virginity. Nor was she just going to jump into bed with anyone. He probably slept around a bunch--married or not--increasing his STD potential. Yeah, screw that. Gross.
Plus, it would be embarrassing. What if, after she retired from informant work, her future husband asked her about her first sexual experience? What was she supposed to say? She let some criminal stamp her v card? No way.
Her conscious asked why. Why? Because! She had more class than that. That's why. She held herself to high standards. It was why she never did it in high school. She wasn't some little boy's science experiment. She wanted a real man. A real man who, also, wasn't a criminal. And knew what he was doing.
Evelyn could hear her conscience whispering about how she sure didn't complain about her make out sessions with Liam. Of course that bitch would bring that up. Sometimes, she hated her conscience. Evelyn sighed. Oh well. There was nothing that could be done for all of those indiscretions. She was only human after all.
The sun was starting to sag low in the sky. How long had she been riding around town? Time to get some gas to be ready for the real nitty gritty come morning. Tomorrow, maybe she would break her own rules and recruit Biddy to come with her to some of the bars. See what they could see. That wouldn't be too dangerous.
Pulling into the gas station, she almost missed a bunch of bikes parked. No riders. They were inside undoubtedly. Hmm. Interesting to see who would be walking out. In the meantime, she would fill Chariot up. Nah. Chariot was a stupid name. Dang. Why couldn't she come up with a good name for her ride? It was frustrating.
While she waited for the riders to come out, she took a glance around. A mother filling up her car met her eyes and smiled. Evelyn looked away. She wasn't going to smile back. She wasn't nice. She was a biker! Not that bikers weren't nice. Some of them probably were. Especially if one wasn't trying to bust them like she was. But ones, such as herself, weren't nice. If she smiled back at the tired looking mom, she could be pegged as nice. Yeah, not happening. Also not happening was future children. That lady looked exhausted! Again, not happening. Ew.
There was also a car in front of her with a man filling up his tank. He looked to be in his mid-forties. The dude was put together. Expensive suit, nice watch, nice Audi. He was fine. With a capital F. Fah-ine. Damn. His blue eyes looked up at her, and he smirked giving her a once over.
Evelyn kept her cool, raising an eyebrow over her aviators. That's right. Mama don't play games, Mr. Business Man. He probably wanted her. She mentally blew on her nails and shined them against her leather jacket. Mentally.
"Nice bike."
Wow. He spoke. He was confident. Of course he was confident. The man looked like he screamed control. Evelyn pegged him for a boss, used to giving commands while people jumped to do his bidding. Not her.
"I know."
His expression was surprised before it turned to amusement. What? Did he expect her to say thank you, complete with a submissive tone. Yeah, not happening. That job was over. She was no one's submissive.
"What's your name?"
A short puff of air blew from Evelyn's little nose while she rolled her eyes. "Had that question twice today now." Oh yeah, oh yeah. Biker babe in the house! She's tough, she's cool, she...doesn't even drool. Okay. That was a lame rhyme.
Much to Evelyn's horror, the man finished pumping his gas and walked over to her. This was bad. She needed to watch for the biker boys. Damn it.
"I'm Ryan," he held his hand out.
"Mister, I'm not interested. I'm here to pump my gas and hit the road. Alright?" She didn't offer her hand.
"Aw. That's too bad. You're a gorgeous woman. I'd really like to get to know you."
"Because I'm a gorgeous woman? That's pretty fuckin' shallow, Ryan."
Ryan shrugged. "Maybe. Does it matter?"
Evelyn perked up when a man, who definitely looked like a biker, came out of the store. Yup. He was a biker. The cut he was wearing was a dead giveaway. Another one came out! Both men appeared to be older. There were five bikes. She needed to see the other three dudes!
Ryan looked over his shoulder. "Those men belong to you?"
Evelyn brought her attention back to the prick in front of her. "Yeah, Ryan. They belong to me. I have a cult where I'm the leader. And they follow me all around," she rolled her eyes.
"Mmm. You're feisty. I like that," he licked his lips.
"Gross. You are so cringe. Chicks fall for that shit?"
Evelyn knew she took him aback because his tongue wasn't so quick with its response. Good. She needed her focus to be on the damn store. Where were the other three dudes?
"Pretty much," Ryan said undaunted. "I have to head inside. Don't ride away now. I just might have to find you."
"You do realize how fucked-up that just sounded, right?"
"Okay, okay." He held his hands up in surrender. "I'll give you that," he laughed. "That did sound a little stalkerish. But, seriously, I do hope you're still out here when I get done in the store."
Evelyn rolled her eyes. She hoped she wasn't. She didn't need this asshole interfering with her work. There were three...no two. Damn it! When had that guy come out?! She never let herself get distracted. The last two needed to come out already. In the meantime, she sent telepathic messages to the men standing by their bikes, hoping they would turn around so she could read their cuts. So far, they were facing her and talking to one another.
Luckily, they hadn't seen her. That wouldn't be good. She wanted to remain unseen so that she could maybe follow them. At a good distance away. Without raising suspicion.
As Ryan came out of the store, so did the final two and her breath caught. It was him. Judas Laurent. Holy shit! Judas Laurent was there with some of his God's Sinners club brothers. But damn, he was hot. Hotter than hot. He was wearing black riding boots, tight black jeans and a black leather jacket. Too bad, she wanted to see those tattoos of his. Was his hair a little longer? Maybe.
Evelyn blinked. She wasn't supposed to be ogling him. This was a job! And, the first part of the job was finding out where they hung out so that she could plan an interaction with him.
"So, how 'bout your number?"
A planned interaction would be so much better. Something spontaneous would cause her to have to think on her toes. Not that she wasn't good at it, because she was. It was just...a plan was better. Controlled. She liked control.
So far, this Ryan dude was messing with that. She really wished she had her gun with her. There would be nothing better than to shoot this asshole in his foot. Although, she did have a little pocket knife with her. If this dude didn't hit bricks soon, she would have it on the ready. Stealthily, she fished it out of her back pocket and palmed it.
"Yeah, hard pass." She took the gas pump out of the tank that had been filled minutes ago.
"Aw. Why not? I'm really not a bad guy." He walked towards her again.
For some reason, he started giving off real creeper vibes. Time to start the bike and get the hell out of dodge. This would cause her to miss an opportunity but, if this club chapter was based in the city, she would find them again. No big deal.
Her bike revved to life, catching the attention of all five biker dudes. Crap. She didn't want that. Risking a peek, she could tell Mr. Laurent's eyes were on her. Scratch that. They were on her boots, up her legs, tits and...face. Ope. Now back down the length of her. What was up with men? Were they all perverts? Wasn't he married? At least that's what he insinuated the last time they spoke, if she was remembering right.
"I asked you a question," Ryan said, latching onto her wrist in a firm grip.
The moment his hand clamped down around her wrist, Evelyn was startled out of her biker observations and jumped into action. The first rule of an informant was to keep one's self safe no matter what because the FBI wasn't going to jeopardize their operation by coming in for the rescue.
Luckily for her, she was palming the pocket knife in her free hand and flashed it quickly enough so others wouldn't see. "You see that? It's small, but effective. And, it's going straight into your jugular if you don't let me go. I'm not playin'," she warned, her face hard as nails.
Inside, her heart was racing. Her full focus was on Ryan. If he didn't let her go, she would have no choice but to carry out some sort of pain on his ass and figure the rest out later.
In that moment, his pupils dilated. Sick fuck. He got off on the threat. His grip tightened. Not good.
"I'm gonna give you ten seconds."
"I'll give you three."
A deep voice came from behind her. She knew that voice. Her eyes went to the bikers. They were all still where they were, but now all of them were looking at her. One big biker was missing. Oh. It was because he was standing right behind her. She was happy she was wearing sunglasses because her eyes were as wide as they could go.
The man's hand loosened, but didn't drop. The prick had to have a big pair not to be scared off so easily. Should she stab him? She didn't have time.
Mr. Laurent's large hand found its way around Ryan's skinny neck. That's when he finally let go. Thank fuck. Rubbing her wrist, she tested it by moving it around in circles uncaring if Mr. Ryan died or not. Mr. Laurent had it handled. It was all good.
Folding her little weapon and sliding it into her pocket, she leaned back and crossed her arms watching the scuffle. It really wasn't a scuffle. Mr. Laurent was in complete control. Looking around, there were only a couple of other people wise enough to mind their business.
With a quick kidney shot--Evelyn figured was for good measure--Mr. Laurent had the guy in his car. Ouch. That must have hurt. Poor Ryan. Although, he must not have been hurt too bad since he was able to drive away. Hopefully, that guy was just passing through and wouldn't try to target her later. If that happened, maybe she would already have an in with the God's Sinners MC to have protection against such a slime ball.
"So," Judas Laurent brushed his hands together before tucking them under his arms in crisscross. "We meet again."
Wait. What?! What the fuck?
"Excuse me?" Keep calm, Evelyn. Keep. Calm.
"You're that coffee shop girl. I remember you."
"Wrong person, dude. I just moved to town yesterday. Sorry to disappoint though," Evelyn said, starting her bike.
"I'm not disappointed," he smirked.
"Thanks for jumping in. I had it handled. But thanks, just the same."
She needed to leave. Now. Abort mission. Abort. This dude was fucking smart. How the hell did he recognize her? Her hair was different! Her clothes were a different style! She was different! She totally underestimated this biker nerd. Damn it.
"Right. See ya 'round...sweet cheeks," he smirked.
Fuck!