Rising Heat (Outlaw Biker Boys) Read online

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  CONTENTS

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  TITLE PAGE

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

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  MORE BY HELEN GREY

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Shame and regret hold enigmatic Ash Bascom to his past, a past he can’t stop running from. He thought he’d found solace with some biker friends. He was wrong. He found something very different, very dangerous instead.

  Kathy Mason just wants to live her life, finish school and do the work that she loves caring for the animals at the local pet shop. She’s alone, but that’s the way she likes it. Because alone, she can’t be hurt.

  She thinks he’s hot, charismatic but full of dangerous secrets. He just can’t get her out of his head. When their lives collide, they’re soon caught up in a web of uncertainty that neither can escape. For the Outlaw Biker Boys, it’s not called blood ties for nothing. Can Ash cut the bonds to save Kathy? Because she’s counting on him to save them both.

  CHAPTER 1

  Kathy

  “Love me! Love me! Love me!”

  “Oh, I do love you, Charlie,” I said with a laugh, sticking a cracker into the beautiful boy’s cage. The Yellow-fronted Amazon looked at me in total adoration before hopping closer and taking the treat from my fingers. “See you tomorrow, pretty boy.” The parrot preened, uncannily human in his reaction, making me laugh again.

  As I passed the puppies, I had to harden my heart to their yipping pleas for one more cuddle as I turned off their lights for the night. I tossed them all a little treat too, treats I paid for out of my own pocket because my disgusting ass of a manager refused to provide one single morsel of food or fun outside their “minimal care plan.” The bastard.

  The kittens were next and they all got treats too. So did the pair of ferrets who stopped running in their tubes just long enough to indulge. I walked past the snakes, wrinkling my nose at the slithering reptiles. No treats for them. No way was I sticking my hand in their cage. Not very pre-veterinary school of me, I knew, but I hated them. Spiders and bugs too.

  When I finally received my Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree and opened my own clinic in a few years, there would be a strict “fur only” policy. If I suffered through eight years of school, I didn’t think it was asking too much to only care for the animals that didn’t make me want to run screaming from the room.

  “Kathy, you sure you don’t want us to stay?” Frank called out, but his hand was already on the front door, the little bell over it already ringing. Emily was right behind him, shoving him a little.

  I rolled my eyes, wondering what they would do if I asked them to stay, maybe scrub a fish tank or two. “Go ahead and have fun tonight,” I said instead. “See you Mon—” They were already out the door. “Day,” I finished, grumbling, and watched them run out to the parking lot.

  My heart squeezed just a little when Emily flew into her boyfriend’s arms, kissing him passionately, not caring that there were people still around. Frank jumped into a car with a bunch of his friends. They were heading to a concert. Me? I’d be spending my Friday night on my ratty sofa eating whatever frozen dinner was in my fridge. I’d love to stop and pick up a pizza, but I had to save my last few dollars to buy gas. I didn’t get paid again until next Friday, and this week’s paycheck was already spent, rent devouring most of it.

  I turned away from the window, from the evidence that everyone in Denver had a more exciting life than me. I was only a couple years older than those two, twenty-three for goodness sakes. But going to school full time and working two-part time jobs made me feel older, as if the stress of making a living and keeping my head above water had added twenty years to my life.

  Heading back to the checkout counter, I grabbed the cash box to take to the safe. Oh what I could do with the hundreds of dollars in this box, but I’d never take it, couldn’t deal with the guilt. Because I, Kathy Mason, was nothing if not a good girl.

  Thinking about money made my heart skip a little in my chest. I didn’t know what to do. I would make rent this month, but would be short on utilities. Of course, I could completely skip going to the grocery store, live on ramen noodles and water for the week. I sighed. Been there, done that. I could do it again.

  Maybe I should call Mom and Dad, ask for a little loan. No. I stomped on that thought as soon as it crept into my brain. Although I loved them very much, I couldn’t deal with them right now. Mom would cry and beg me to come home. Dad, if he was sober, would only rant. No, I wouldn’t, couldn’t call them. Because right now, I might actually pack up what little I owned and drive straight back to San Diego. And if I did that, I’d be sucked back into their lives, their drama, their need for me. I might never escape it again.

  Six months ago, I did the only reckless thing I’d ever done in my life. I purchased a map of the United States and spread it out on the floor of my bedroom. I sat down cross legged in front of it, closed my eyes, then passed the palm of my hand over it, around and around several times. When I was ready, I extended my index finger and simply used it like a dart, dropping it to a point on the map. When I open my eyes, my finger was pointed at Denver.

  And tada. Here I was. On the verge of starving to death.

  Shoving the box of cash into the safe, I turned off the lights of the office and glanced at my watch. Five till six. Five minutes until I could officially close up Jolly Pets. But seriously, what did five minutes matter? We hadn’t had a customer in well over an hour.

  Making my first executive decision as newly promoted assistant manager, I went to the front of the store and turned the sign to “closed,” shoving the niggling bit of guilt away. Patting my pockets to make sure I had my keys and phone, I reached for the door knob and…

  Briiing.

  Drat!

  Checked my watch again, four minutes until six. I wavered a moment, wondering if I should answer, then decided that if it was my manager and no one picked up the call, I’d be in big trouble and that extra dollar an hour I’d received with my promotion would be gone. Because he would fire me. With glee.

  Sighing heavily, I ran for the phone. “Jolly Pets, how can I help you take care of your best friend today?” The corny slogan rolled off my tongue with ease.

  “By helping me fucking find her,” an angry voice shouted.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, startled. How rude! I did my best to keep my voice calm in return.

  “Your store sold me a faulty tank! The piece of shit’s broken and my snake got out. What the hell do you mean, selling me a shitty tank?”

  “Sir,” I stammered, alarmed by the vehemence in his voice. “I’m not sure — can you tell me when you purchased it?”

  “Day before yesterday. Morning,” he growled. “I still have my receipt. Now my snake’s gotten out, the side of the tank is in pieces, and there’s no way in hell I’m goi
ng to try and get it back to your store on my motorcycle.”

  I hadn’t been here the day before yesterday, having been scheduled to work my other job that morning. “Sir, if you can take a picture of it and come by tomorrow, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble getting a refund—”

  “What the hell am I supposed to do about my snake in the meantime?”

  “Sir, we’re just about ready to close—”

  “Let me talk to the manager!”

  “I’m the assistant manager,” I said, trying to sound firm. “If you would just calm down, sir—”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!” he snapped. “I paid good money for the snake and the tank. I expect your store to replace it. Now.”

  “It’s closing time, sir—”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what time it is. I need this taken care of now, not tomorrow, but now. Do you understand me?”

  I’d taken care of difficult customers before, but this guy took the cake. I tried again. “Sir, I’d be more than happy to refund your money or provide you with a replacement tank, but—”

  “No buts about it — what’s your name?”

  “Kathy Mason,” I said. To be honest, I didn’t want the guy to know my name, but in my new role, I had to try and make this right or I had a feeling I wouldn’t be an assistant manager very long. “Like I said, sir, it’s just about closing time—”

  “I expect your pet store to fix this mess. I need a new tank and I need it now.”

  I sighed. What was the protocol for this? I had no idea. “What are you suggesting, sir?”

  “I’m not suggesting. I’m demanding. I need you to bring me another tank.”

  My heart thumped down to the pit of my stomach. “That’s highly inappropriate—”

  “I don’t give a shit if it’s inappropriate. If your store sells pet equipment, it should stand by that equipment. I need a tank. I can’t get it on my bike. I need you or someone in your store to bring one to my home. Now.”

  I hesitated, mentally flipping through the store’s policy and procedures for something like this, and for the life of me, couldn’t remember reading anything about mandatory home deliveries.

  “Give me the name of your manager. I’m going to—”

  “Sir, just calm down, please,” I urged, trying not to sound intimidated. “I’m trying to figure out a way—”

  “I have a way. Bring me a new tank. Or I’ll be at the store first thing in the morning with a major complaint to your manager about your refusal to help. In fact, I’ll tell him what lousy service I received and how you were more worried about closing time than you were about helping a customer.”

  “Why would you do that?” I gasped. “You don’t even know me!” Would he stand by his threat? If he told Bodie, would the smarmy manager stand up for me? I doubted it. No matter how good an employee I was, he would buckle beneath this man’s anger, I just knew it. If the guy demanded Bodie fire me, I had no doubt that he would. Bodie was a pushover. Period. If I got fired, I wouldn’t be able to pay for all the things I already couldn’t pay for. I didn’t doubt that I could find another part-time job, but I’d lose that extra dollar and the lapse in weekly paychecks would be my financial death.

  But going to a strange man’s house? An angry man’s house? Was it worth the risk?

  “Sir, this is not an acceptable option.” No response. “Sir, are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me make sure I understand. You’re asking me to bring you a new tank? Now?”

  “You’re a genius.”

  “I don’t feel comfortable—”

  “Neither does my snake,” he interrupted. “I can’t keep her under the heat lamp if she’s not in a tank, can I?”

  “No sir, but—”

  “Here’s my address.”

  He rattled it off. He wasn’t far. It was a LoDo address, about a ten-minute drive away. Was he telling the truth? Or was he setting up a scenario where I could be attacked? Raped? Killed even? I shook my head. Why would anyone call a pet store to do that?

  “Well?”

  I sighed and reached for the small pad of scratch paper and a pen by the register and mentally kicked myself. If something bad happened to me, I would only have myself to blame. But I needed my job. “Can you give me that address again, please?” He did, sounding only slightly mollified.

  He lived in a converted warehouse. The door to his loft was located on the southwest side of the building. I was supposed to push a buzzer and he would come down. It did little to comfort me. “I’m telling you right now, sir, that I don’t feel comfortable doing this. And I’ll tell you something else. If you’re not calmed down by the time I get there, I’ll pepper-spray your eyes and then call the police. Is that clear?”

  Silence for a moment. Then, much to my surprise, he chuckled. “You don’t have to worry that I’m going to attack you, lady,” he said. There was a definite smirk in his voice. “All I want is a tank for my snake. As soon as we get the snake settled, you can leave. You have my word. Okay?”

  No, it wasn’t okay, but I didn’t know what else to do. Normally, I wouldn’t even consider doing such a thing, but at the same time, it was my job to provide excellent customer service. Plus, as much as I hated them, the poor snake did need a home. What if it got out of the building and frightened some old woman to death?

  Heaving out a deep breath, I vowed to be careful. I would keep my keys at the ready, prepared to scratch his eyes out if he made the slightest move to attack me. I wished I could back up my threat about the pepper spray. It was going to the top of my shopping list for the weekend.

  I had an idea where he was located and verified it by asking him the cross streets. “I’ll bring you a new tank,” I finally agreed. “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Thanks,” he said and the phone went dead.

  CHAPTER 2

  Ash

  I hung up the phone, not really caring at the moment that I was being an ass. The woman on the other end of the line had sounded flustered. I knew it was closing time but this was ridiculous.

  Fuck.

  Nothing was going right lately. This was the second time I’d bought equipment from that pet store and had a problem with it. Maybe I just should’ve waited until morning, insisted on speaking to the dick manager who sold it to me. Middle-aged, weak chin. Instead, I’d taken out my frustration on the assistant manager. Probably some snot nosed kid barely out of diapers. Or a fifty-something ex-hippie in a Muumuu.

  I wasn’t normally such a jerk, but the thought of going to bed with my python slithering around somewhere pissed me off. Not only did she cost me a lot of money, but I didn’t want her to freeze. Not that it was snowing outside. Still. The loft where I lived wasn’t exactly easy to heat. The flooring was usually cold. Not good for snakes, I knew that much.

  I didn’t often fall into a pit of self-pity, but the past couple of weeks had been a shit storm. Nothing had been easy about them. Now the snake. Such a stupid little thing, really, but come on; did everything have to be such a struggle? Not that I was afraid of struggles. God knows I’d dealt with enough of those over the past decade. But I was trying to change. Trying to change my attitude, my outlook, the way I thought about and did things. Shouldn’t that count for something? Instead, I had to deal with this?

  I gave up my search for Alice for a few minutes and sank down onto the couch with a disgruntled groan. My loft was big. Nearly two thousand square feet. I liked it, but I hadn’t done much to the place since I bought it about a year ago. The building was old, built sometime in the late 1800s. The bank of factory windows that took up nearly the entire west side were grimy. Most of them didn’t open.

  The large space was broken up by a few free-standing half-walls. One just inside the doorway blocked the view of my couch and television in the southeast corner of the cavernous room. To my immediate left was a section where I kept my bike gear and spare parts. It was separated from view by a shorter h
alf-wall.

  The bathroom in the northeast corner was completely walled in. The kitchen area was also situated along the north wall. Ancient gas stove, rattling fridge, cast iron sink, a second-hand microwave on the counter. Just beyond the kitchen, in the northwest corner was my bedroom. Another free-standing wall blocked the view of my bed from the doorway.

  That was it. My castle. My man cave. My place. A dreary, shadowy space, cold most of the year. Cost a fortune to even try to heat, but I didn’t care. It was cool in the summertime, but during winter, I could often see my breath. Now that yet another Denver winter was on the way, I had to have a decent place for my snake. Which circled me back to the annoying situation with the damn tank. I gazed around the darkness, only the dull glow of a forty-watt bulb lighting the living room area.

  It was a dump. I paid prime for the space and with a little work, it could be amazing. But I’d done nothing. Absolutely nothing to make it a home. I blew out a breath, sick of my own mental whining.

  Me, Ash Bascom, feeling sorry for myself? What did I have to complain about? The fact that I had lost my way? I only had myself to blame for that.

  I had few friends left, and only one I could count on. All I had to do was pick up a phone and ask him for help, which I wasn’t about to do. My family wasn’t an option. They were so dysfunctional that we’d become estranged long before I left home.

  I turned my back on that very same family, even my fraternal twin sister, because she had the audacity to criticize me. In my own defense, she was a damn know-it-all. She had an answer for everything but was still living at home, following the rules and toeing the line. I hadn’t had the patience for that.

  My twenty-ninth birthday was just around the corner and here I was, living alone, friendless, trying to start over after ten years of… well, let’s just say I was in the process of trying to put a recklessly indulgent past behind me. I’d spent, no, squandered the last ten years of my life getting wasted, living on the edge, binge-drinking, experimenting with drugs, and indulging in irresponsible sex with any woman who came on to me.