Lucky’s Naughty Angel: A Second Chance Romance Page 4

I know I’m in for a really shitty shift when I come in and hear a familiar voice yell, “Hey, Lucky!” from the corner of the bar.

  I stop dead, squeezing my eyes shut, the euphoria from that kiss with Julia vanishing like smoke. There’s only one guy around anymore who calls me that, and I never wanted to hear from him again.

  I open my eyes and look over to the voice, and see my big brother Daniel leaning toward me from his seat at a corner table. Older by almost twenty years, with gray in his hair, but with the same dress and manner that I remember. He’s grinning wide enough for the scar on his cheek to crease like a bad seam in his leathery skin. Not again.

  “Give me a sec.” I send a beer over to him to mollify his alcoholic ass, then check in with my boss, Eddy, who nods at me and twitches a small smile as I approach. “Hey, I’m in for the night. Any problems? Like with him?”

  We both look over at Daniel, who is still grinning—obviously drunk—his face red beneath the road tan and his overlong curls sticking wetly to his forehead. He looks like me if I was a foot shorter, ate nothing but cheeseburgers and booze, and got beat a few times with the ugly stick.

  He’s also an asshole. But he’s family, and he knows I make sacrifices for my loved ones. So the first thing I wonder is what he’s here to ask me for, and how much trouble he plans to cause until he gets it.

  “That guy? No problem, except he should probably be cut off about now. He’s kind of a jackass, but I saw the resemblance, so we didn’t throw him out.” My boss offers a lopsided smile.

  “I wouldn’t have taken it personally if you had thrown him out,” I admit. “I’ll go deal with him. Yell if you need me.”

  He nods, likely knowing it wouldn’t be necessary. Being in prison has left me with an instinct for trouble. Even if Daniel wasn’t my brother, I would still be keeping a closer eye on him than on anyone else in here, for just that reason.

  He’s smirking as I walk over. It’s all I can do not to grab him by the collar and haul him off his feet—and as he sees the look in my eyes, the smirk fades. “Hey,” he says in that used-car salesman tone that he uses when he wants to talk me into something. I’d hoped never to hear it again.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Daniel?” I demand in a low, hard tone as I walk up to him.

  In response, he pushes out the chair across the table from him with his foot. “Just a little talk.”

  I take a deep breath. Eddy’s watching us like a hawk between serving drinks, in case I need backup. I need to keep this job. I smile tightly, settle into the seat and then say, “We shouldn’t be having a conversation at all.”

  He chuckles. “I’m hurt. Yeah, yeah, I know, you said after everything you did for me, you wanted out of the business and me out of your life. I get it, I do, and I know you’re a stand-up guy. Not every guy will do a dime and change for his brother.”

  I stare at him. “The deal was, I do that for you, and then you walk out of my life and take the gang and all your crazy baggage with it. The drugs, the guns, everything you dragged me into when I was fifteen and too dumb to know better.”

  “Oh yeah, I get it, I do. And you got a pretty raw deal in prison, or so I hear. Only got one working kidney left, isn’t that right?” His voice has a wheedling tone of mock sympathy to it.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” I lean forward, knowing three things: I’m bigger, fitter, and tougher than him; he’s on my turf and drunk as hell; and he owes me way, way too much to be coming back for another favor now. “Now, once again, why the fuck are you bothering me? Are you dying? Is Dad dying?”

  “I don’t know. Old bastard doesn’t talk to me anymore.” He shrugs nonchalantly and takes a deep swallow of his beer. “And I know he hangs up every time you try to call. Doesn’t he?”

  My mouth works and I look away. He’s right on the nose. Dad married his high school sweetheart, went to church every Sunday and broke his back at a construction job. He taught me joinery, how to carve a chain from a stick of wood, and how to frame a shed.

  He’s career military, retired now. A patriot. A good man. He doesn’t deserve two trouble-making sons, both of whom are convicted felons now.

  He used to think I was a good man. But when I went down for Daniel after he beat the hell out of that banker, Dad didn’t care that they had the wrong brother. After all, I didn’t fight it.

  He never once called me when I was in jail or on probation, and after enough hang-ups, I gave up on calling him.

  “Wow, that really did hit a nerve, didn’t it?” Daniel tugs on his pointed chin, his eyes full of sly mockery. “So I was right.”

  “I don’t know if he’d talk to me if I called him now. I haven’t tried in years.” I keep my voice neutral, ignoring the gutted feeling that thinking about Dad always leaves me with.

  That seems to surprise him. “Thought you planned to go legit after we parted ways, get back in his good graces.”

  “There’s no getting back in Dad’s good graces after all the trouble you dragged me into.” I blame Daniel for about eighty percent of it anyway. I could have said no. I could have run, could’ve let Daniel and the Laughing Boys hunt me. I could even have fought back and gotten my ass beat.

  “No, probably not,” he replies thoughtfully. “But that cat’s been out of the bag for a while, hasn’t it?”

  “Just fucking spit it out, Daniel. Why are you here?” It occurs to me that if I grab the son of a bitch, bash his head against the table a few times, drag him across the floor by one leg and pitch him out into the snow, everyone else here would simply ask me what he did. But I don’t. I’m just not that guy any more.

  “I’m here to take you back with me,” he replies simply.

  I stare at him. Balls. But that’s Daniel—all balls, no sense, and absolutely no honor. I thought he had disappointed me for the last time when he left me to rot in jail without paying my bail and fines. It seems I was wrong. “No.”

  He cocks his head. “Wait, did you just tell me no? Do you have any fucking idea who you’re dealing with here, baby brother?”

  I push my chair back and stand, stepping around the table, looming over him. He hasn’t seen me since I was that scared kid headed into jail. He has no idea what the past eighteen years have done to me—I was thrown into the pit and I climbed back out with my fingernails. That changes a man. “Do you?” I ask him softly.

  It slowly seems to dawn on him that things have changed a bit. His eyes widen, and he goes quiet for a moment before smiling up at me. “You’re right, I do owe you big. And normally, I would leave you alone just like you want. But I need you down south, baby brother.”

  I shake my head. “No deal. I’ve got a life here now. I am not giving it up to follow you into the mouth of Hell again.”

  He starts to argue—and then his head snaps around to focus on the door as it opens, the bell on it ringing. His eyebrows go up, and I quickly turn to look.

  Oh shit.

  It’s Julia. Beautiful, sweet Julia, bundled in her one good coat, a scarf covering her hair and throat and tucked into her collar. She looks around for me, and I wince. Crap. Not now. Not while Daniel is here!

  She sees me and her face lights up; she takes a step in my direction, and then her face falls in confusion as she catches sight of Daniel. Quickly she goes to the bar instead, and I let out a small sigh of relief. I’ll deal with her after I deal with my brother. I just hope he hasn’t noticed that—

  “Friend of yours?” he asks almost teasingly.

  Shit.

  “Well, well! Cute little piece of ass! What is she, twenty? No wonder you don’t want to leave!” He gets up and starts sauntering past me, headed straight for Julia.

  I grab him by the arm and just stand there solidly. He stops short—and the sudden realization that he can’t move past me or pull his arm free shocks his attention away from Julia. I look past him; she is watching us with a worried expression.

  “What?” he demands, getting a little loud. “I just want to introduce my
self.”

  “You are drunk and an asshole. She’s a nice girl who doesn’t need your kind of problems anywhere near her. Leave her alone.” My voice drops to a growl at the last, and he gives me a shocked look.

  “Holy shit, you really must like this piece of tail.” He moves back to his chair. I let him go and he sits down. “Who is she?”

  “None of your damn business.”

  He laughs. “You know I’m gonna find out.”

  My blood runs cold at his threat, and I lean down into his face. “What you’re gonna do is go the fuck back to New Orleans and leave me alone. I already did more for you than you ever deserved, just so they wouldn’t lock you up and throw away the key. That was the last thing I’m ever doing for you.”

  His smirk fades. “I’m in serious need here.”

  “I was in serious need when I ended up in the system without anyone to visit me or throw me a lifeline. Nobody in the club, none of my family—not one of you so much as sent me a damn Christmas card.”

  “You want me to get you a Christmas card? Is that what this is about?” His drunken bravado sets my teeth on edge.

  “This is about you leaving.” I rub the bridge of my nose. “I gave you most of my life, Daniel, between the club and what happened. I’m done with that. You gonna shoot me for that, like you used to threaten? Go right ahead.”

  He gives me a mock look of shock. “I wouldn’t dream of harming my own brother, even if he is being a giant ungrateful fuck who forgets who practically raised him.”

  “You get my point. Just go, Daniel. You’re not wanted here.”

  He scoffs and stands, doing his best to stare me in the eyes. “So that’s it, huh? You want me to do this the hard way? Because I can still do that. You talk about how you’ve built a life here? Well, that’s fine. Maybe I’ll just destroy every part of it, and then you won’t have anything tying you here.”

  There’s ice in my veins now. My hands clench at my sides. “You can try,” I growl back. “But you’ll fail. And it’ll cost you.”

  He starts heading for the door—with me following right behind him—laughing hollowly the whole way. “We’ll see,” he replies, and looks back at Julia one last time before I practically shove him out the door.

  Chapter Six

  “I don’t understand,” I say to Aaron. My heart hurts, and the lambskin lining of my coat is scratchy against my back. I feel vulnerable and a little sick from watching the bizarre exchange between him and the other biker. Someone from his past? “You want me to leave?”

  Every time that man looked over at me and smirked, I felt a chill run down my back that made me pull my coat around me closer, like a layer of armor. I didn’t feel comfortable with him here, with the way he was talking to Aaron, or with the way Aaron reacted. I smelled trouble on that man, thick as body odor and beer fumes.

  Fortunately, he was only around for about five minutes before Aaron basically escorted him out the door. I sigh with relief once the door closes behind him—but it catches in my throat as I see the man walk over to one of the frosted windows and stand there outside, trying to peer in.

  Aaron comes over and tells me that I should leave. And I protest, of course. He doesn’t seem to know what to say. “Look,” he starts, then coughs into his fist and glances at the window. “Things just got complicated.”

  “I thought they were already complicated,” I say quietly as the bartender brings me my Irish coffee.

  “They are. But God knows I don’t want you caught up in any of what just went on, so we’re probably going to have to take a break from each other for a while. I’ll try to still be around the church to help out and stuff, but we shouldn’t...associate.” He speaks so reluctantly that my heartache eases a little.

  “How long?” I ask in a pained tone, and his hand brushes mine, maybe on instinct.

  “Just a few days. We probably need to cool off anyway.” Another regretful look. “But you already know that.”

  “No, I don’t.” I’ve never felt so sure about anything in my life. “No regrets about this afternoon, Aaron. None.”

  He sighs through his nose and nods. “You’re really selling yourself short, sweetheart. I’m trouble. I don’t mean to be, but it follows me around.”

  Now I just want to hug him even more than I usually do. He’s always the one to sacrifice for others. But I won’t let him do it this time. “Who is that man?”

  “That’s Daniel,” he replies in a falsely light tone, looking over at the window again. The man’s creepy silhouette still stands there, his breath wearing through the frost. “That’s my brother.”

  My eyes widen. Oh shit. He’s warned me about his brother before.

  Aaron has told me a lot about himself, probably more than anyone else in town. It started back when he was drinking more and had just started to realize that he could tell me anything: the gang he was pulled into too young, the crimes he witnessed and had to play lookout for, Daniel’s impulsiveness and violence.

  He told me about the day his brother beat a bank executive into a coma because the poor man panicked during a robbery and couldn’t remember the safe combination. Daniel, who owed crippling debts to some terrifying people, flew into a rage out of desperation. Only Aaron restraining him had stopped Daniel from committing murder.

  The man, addled by terror and an anxiety disorder, got the two brothers mixed up in the line-up, insisting that Aaron attacked him. The police detective had refused to believe it; he had noticed Daniel’s criminal record, and Aaron’s lack of one.

  Aaron took the fall anyway. He told me that he did it because Daniel was two felonies in and was about to get life in prison without parole. I cried when I found out.

  “Why is he here?” I ask incredulously, keeping my voice low.

  “He wants to take me back to New Orleans with him.” He scratched his check, rubbing at his five o’clock shadow as his lips twisted in disgust. “Back to the club. For keeps.”

  “How did they end up in New Orleans?” I feel like I’m a step behind suddenly. I know I have no business expecting him to tell me every damn thing, but something crazy is going on, and I need help sorting it out in my head.

  The bartender brings him a single shot of whiskey and he swallows it down like medicine. “Daniel and the Laughing Boys couldn’t hack it in the Northeast. So he led all five of the remaining members down the coast to the Big Easy three years ago. I only found out about it through one of the guys that left the club.”

  “And now they’re having trouble in New Orleans, and he wants your help.” No, absolutely not. There is no way I am putting up with him being dragged away when he’s just starting to be happy again. Not when we’re right on the brink of being together.

  “That’s pretty much it.” He gets a regular coffee as his next drink. He’s on duty after all, and I know that for him only the coffee is free.

  “My brother knew where to look. I grew up here, after all. So, did he. Difference is I always wanted to come back to Phoenicia, and I made the mistake of admitting that.”

  “We have to get him away from here.” I want to cry at the thought of Aaron leaving—and it makes me want beat this guy’s ass. But of course, I’m not really the type to do either. I would rather find some sane way of fixing the problem.

  “You just let me take care of this situation, sweetheart. He’s a drunk, he’s violent, and he’s not used to New York winters anymore. I don’t think he’ll be able to keep out of trouble, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.” His hand covers mine briefly, comfortingly.

  It makes me want to take him by the hand and lead him outside and down the street to his trailer. But he’s at work, and I know I have to be patient.

  I suddenly feel stupid. He won’t be free for hours, but when I left home all I was thinking about was what I would do to him once he was done work. Maybe he’s right, and I’m too damned young to be out here like this.

  And if I had not come, that creep would not know my face now, o
r know that I’m associated with Aaron, and that will probably cause even more issues for Aaron. He is already talking about a cooling-off period, even if it’s short.

  “What can I do?” I ask him softly, brushing his fingers with mine.

  “Don’t let him get near you. Don’t let him follow you home. Do you have your truck?” His voice sounds harsh, full of worry. I blush.

  “I walked down. It was almost clear out and I was stiff from earlier so I needed it.” Crap. I really am naive sometimes. Though really, how could I have anticipated that a dangerous scumbag from his past would be here?

  “Shit. Okay. Can you get a friend to take you back?” He glances at the window again. Daniel is pacing slowly, hands behind back. My stomach flips and I nod. “Good. I can’t leave my post and take you back home right now.”