Satisfying Extortion [The Extortionists 2] (Siren Publishing LoveEdge) Read online

  “All I’m saying is stay alive and look prepared. Remember what happened to me.”

  “It’s called coincidence. Pageant was working the case for crying out loud. That’s all it was—a coincidence.”

  “Then for your sake—seeing as you’re hell bent on remaining single forever—I hope there isn’t a blue-eyed, blonde-haired cop with a banging body waiting for you in South Carolina.”

  Chapter Three

  She didn’t have blonde hair or blue eyes. As for the banging body, Kurt couldn’t tell one way or another thanks to the baggy clothes she wore, but one specific thought gnawed at his gut as he walked toward the group standing near the local police station.

  “It’s her,” he muttered, realizing no one was nearby to hear him. He stopped about fifteen paces or so before he reached them. He turned his face to the distant sea and scented the saltwater air. He loved running on the beach and if he were certain of time being on their side, he might have leapt into midair and taken his wolfen form.

  A distance run would’ve cleared his head. Instead, he stood there observing her, watching as she placed some distance between herself and Bart. Apparently wise to his approach, she turned and watched him.

  At that moment, he realized. He was cooked. Toasted.

  Their gazes met and held and he quickly recalled the faded fantasies from the weeks past. He took in her high, gently sloping cheeks and her cute pug nose. Her protruding collarbone made him remember how he’d yearned to see her in his fantasies, how he’d dipped his gaze in his dreams only to have her vanish from his thoughts. She’d taunted him, haunted him in a way he simply couldn’t explain.

  Now, here she was in the flesh.

  She was different than he remembered. He’d been introduced to her a year or so ago and back then, she carried around a little extra weight. Her hair was much lighter, too. She’d also worn a lot of makeup, as if she were hiding from the world.

  She was far more attractive without it.

  Unless he’d become psychic within the last few days, there really wasn’t any sound explanation as to why he’d dreamt about her or why he immediately recognized her as Bart’s ex. He hadn’t known her name when he’d fantasized about her.

  His inner wolf became agitated and there were few questions then. There had been a logical reason for his inability to put a name with her face. He now understood who she was and what she would soon mean to him.

  “We’re over here!” Blaine McKinney waved as if Kurt couldn’t see the cluster fuck of individuals congregating outside the local police station.

  Every step he took from that point forward was like a strategically planned stride. Still, as he walked closer to the crowd, he made up his mind. He wouldn’t stop and acknowledge her for fear if he did, he wouldn’t bother greeting the others.

  “It’s about time you showed up.” Pageant’s weak smile told damning tales. They’d likely arrived in Satisfying and received the first strain of terrible news.

  Kurt breezed right by Bart’s ex, but he couldn’t help but feel the flex of his nostrils. He couldn’t ignore the overwhelming aroma filling the air with a mix of lilacs and vanilla, passion and poison, a fragrance he could only dub as mate lust.

  Shaking off the thought, he immediately greeted and slapped backs with Randon, Blaez, and Marcus. After he gave the fellows hell for leaving Atlanta without him, he turned to Pageant. Kissing her cheek, he asked, “Are you keeping him straight?”

  Conversations riddled with questions and answers or sidebar comments didn’t faze him. He was lightheaded and not really aware of his surroundings.

  She was at the forefront of his thoughts, existing in his memory as much as his current reality. Dazed and confused, he tried to remember if he’d said anything to Pageant.

  “I’m trying,” Pageant replied, giving him a strange look before winking at Randon, Kurt’s best friend for most of his life. “He’s not easy to keep in line.”

  Randon said, “For a fella who drank the club out of alcohol, you’re holding up pretty well.”

  Blaez would’ve typically thrown in a few jabs, too. Instead, he now watched Bart and his ex. He was acting weird and he wasn’t the only one. Marcus hadn’t said much more than “hello” unless Kurt had missed something, which wasn’t farfetched given his current predicament.

  “For a man who is about to find his better—”

  “Well looka here,” Kurt drawled, determined to cut Pageant off midsentence. He caught a scowl from Randon even though he should’ve understood. “I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”

  “Mondays,” Bart Phillips muttered, making a point to correct him and dodge a handshake at the same time.

  From what Randon and Pageant had previously relayed, Bart’s near death experience in Pleasant had left him a changed man. He’d become obsessed with catching the extortionists. Apparently Bart had a killing agenda and an arsenal to help him handle most jobs.

  Unfortunately, Bart had yet to figure out it was tough to eliminate what couldn’t be shot, stabbed, or wrestled to the ground.

  Fact of the matter was, they couldn’t kill the extortionists with guns. In an unexpected twist of fate, Pageant had somehow managed to put down one of them, but considering the small town had been abuzz with the news, it was unlikely they’d ever have a similar or same opportunity in the future.

  “As always, it’s good to see you too, Bart,” Kurt muttered, immediately noting the tension between Bart and his ex-wife. Given the exchanged glares between former man and wife, the divorce had been anything but amicable. It was difficult to hold a family together and keep a woman happy when a man was crazy bitter at the whole world.

  According to second-handed information, Bart wasn’t just plain furious. He had become a real lunatic. The former deputy had “retired” early and while Kurt doubted a pension would carry him through, Bart had seemingly worked the media appropriately. The press had labeled him as the extortionist’s lone survivor and he often appeared on the front of periodicals.

  Realizing his thoughts had wandered again, right along with his gaze, Kurt smiled at Bart’s former wife but didn’t say hello. It was still too risky. He was too volatile and didn’t trust himself near her.

  “Well I’ll be doggone. This is an unexpected surprise.” Deliberately dodging Bart’s ex and realizing he hadn’t greeted the former sheriff, Kurt shook hands with Blaine McKinney. The former Pleasant, North Carolina lawman had handed in his badge to start a special task force. Like the MC, Blaine had high hopes of putting an end to the extortionists once and for all.

  Bart cleared his throat and turned to the woman beside him. “Suzette, this is Kurt Dandridge, a friend of Randon’s. He rides with the Bold and Free, too.” He glared at Blaez and Marcus before he averted his gaze and added, “Kurt, this is my wife, Suzette Phillips.”

  “Ex,” Suzette snapped, sticking her chest out about as far as she extended her arm. “And we’ve met.”

  Damn right they’d met. Kurt’s body went rigid as simultaneous flashes of previous meetings flashed in front of his mind’s eye. Those previously uneventful meetings now seemed quite memorable.

  Unable to stop himself, Kurt lifted her hand to his lips and brushed her knuckles with a gentleman’s kiss. “As always, a pleasure.”

  “Oh.” She blushed something awful and held her other hand to her chest. “Why, you too. Definitely. Pleasurable. Yes.” She fluttered long natural lashes over emerald-colored eyes. Her short breaths drove her heavy rack up and down and each time her breasts moved either way, he caught a glimpse of her red bra. The undergarment barely concealed her boobs and Kurt nearly cursed aloud.

  A man could get lost in a chest like that.

  Kurt liked big-breasted women. He admired the curvy type, but he’d never quite pictured himself falling head over heels for a plump gal.

  Was he thinking about it now? He quickly wrapped his head around another thought. Before he’d ridden out that morning, the club had enjoyed a good lau
gh at his expense.

  Poor Eva.

  Apparently, if she could’ve reported back to Vince Daniels that they’d had a good time, he would’ve hooked her up with one of the full patch members. Instead, she was doomed to start stripping for the club sometime next week.

  Eva wasn’t his problem now. He focused on Suzette.

  He’d soon have his hands full.

  In an instant, flashed images rushed through his mind like old black and white movie clips. For some odd reason, Blaez and Marcus were now present in the more illicit fantasies scrolling through his head.

  He jolted forward and lost his balance. What the hell? He immediately swung his gaze to Blaez and Marcus. All eyes were on him then but no one said a word. Blaez slowly nodded as if he understood what Kurt had seen. Marcus looked away and Kurt couldn’t help but notice the balled fists hanging at his sides.

  No. Surely not.

  Shaking off the thought of a shared mate in a lasting relationship, Kurt decided Suzette couldn’t be the one. For starters, he’d met Bart’s ex-wife a year or so ago. He remembered thinking she was pretty, but he hadn’t noted anything extraordinary about her. Now she didn’t even look like the same woman.

  He had to reasonably consider he’d had too much to drink the night before. Suzette couldn’t be his mate. Randon had been drawn to Pageant from the start. Most of the Bold and Free pack members told similar stories. They were all about love at first sight hogwash. And all the mated Bold and Free pack members were monogamous.

  Kurt released a sigh of relief.

  As he considered some of those tales, Kurt asked himself one pressing question. Then why did he find it nearly impossible to look away from her? More importantly, why did he fear his buddies had the same current problem?

  Sensing Randon watching him, he bit out, “What?”

  Randon shrugged. “Nothin’, brother. Just observing. That’s all.”

  “Well observe somebody else,” Kurt snapped, irritated because Randon had used a few seconds of their precious time to draw his focus away from Suzette.

  Blaez clucked and paced. When Blaez took a stroll, it made everyone nervous. His senses were keen and the shifter had a sixth sense like nobody’s business. He could accurately predict when a war was coming and to date, he’d only been wrong once in terms of sensing an extortionist.

  “So what’s happened here so far?” Kurt tucked his helmet under his arm and narrowed his gaze on the woman next to him. She nervously secured a lock of hair behind her ear and grinned up at him like a blushing tease.

  Kurt grunted and caught a scowl from Blaez and Marcus. They could snarl and growl for all he cared.

  He rolled his tongue over his bottom lip and just gawked like hell. Suzette’s lips turned up in an adorable smile and cute little dimples settled in her upper cheeks.

  God yeah. She’s a fox. He’d have her bent over his bike and screaming out his name in about two and a half minutes.

  Or less.

  Fuck! He had to stop this!

  “I take it you didn’t check the news before you came down here?” Blaine asked.

  Bart huffed and puffed like an angry bear. “Bikers don’t get the news because they’re generally the cause of most of it.”

  “Is that so?” Kurt couldn’t help but retaliate. “Seems we’re not the only guys the media loves.”

  “Yeah, but when I’m covered it isn’t for crimes of passion or illegal activity,” Bart said, avoiding eye contact.

  “You don’t have to convince me. If you were pegged for crimes of passion, the whole town would come out in support of you.” He winked at Suzette. That was for you, doll.

  “So what can you tell us, Blaine?” Randon cut through the tension by addressing the former sheriff.

  Blaine rambled off what he knew. Locals had disappeared. A strange phenomenon had taken over the town. People were scared. A few unexplainable deaths led to circulated suspicions, rumors the gossipmongers quickly spread throughout the coastal Carolina town.

  Aware of the pretty woman closing the distance between them, Kurt stole another quick glance. Trying to cover it up, he fumbled his helmet and easily picked up on Bart’s disapproval. Kurt didn’t feel too sorry for the dude. He should’ve been smart enough to keep dibs on his woman.

  He’d heard the stories. Bart and Suzette weren’t just divorced. They were practically enemies.

  Kurt didn’t care what others thought. He kept a keen eye on the little lady and let his crazy fantasies run wild. If someone noticed, so be it.

  Suzette had the ability to turn an average man, an ordinary biker, into an outright obsessive lover. He was turned on by her smile, her obvious interest in him, and a list of other admirable qualities. He’d just go with it. She didn’t seem to mind a good ogling.

  Poor ole Bart probably wouldn’t mind.

  “From what I hear, you’ve become consumed by the idea of catching the extortionist.” So preoccupied in fact, his wife had left him after he became too distant and verbally abusive.

  Kurt studied his pals then. Bart wasn’t the only peculiar one in the bunch. Blaez and Marcus looked about as agitated as Kurt felt. They were acting plain weird, even for them.

  The bulge in Kurt’s denim and the stretch of his cock made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t there in Satisfying to find his own forms of pleasure. Still, he couldn’t dismiss the red lace underneath Suzette’s gaping black shirt. He also caught a glimpse of Suzette’s stomach pushing up against the underside of her bra.

  For some unfounded reason, he thought she looked fine as hell. He patted his beer gut. He could stand to lose a few pounds, too, and he could think of a few recreational activities to work them off with the beauty in front of him.

  Oh yeah. He was sunk.

  “Got something on your mind, Kurt?” Blaez arched his brows. “You look a little under the weather.”

  “I was about to say the same thing about you,” Kurt snapped.

  “We’re fine,” Marcus assured him, leveling a stare on Suzette.

  “Blaez is right. You don’t look well, buddy,” Randon said. “Guys said you were lucky you didn’t get alcohol poisoning.”

  “Heaven didn’t have room for me yet and hell was scared to take me,” Kurt said, making light of Randon’s comment. “You can’t believe everything the club tells you.”

  Small towns and close-knit packs had a lot in common where gossip was concerned. Kurt’s grandmother used to say there was rarely a word of wisdom in a pack of lies.

  Then again, he had been staggering drunk. Wise men didn’t drink. That was another line his grandmother often pitched.

  “Kurt started early and finished a few hours later,” Marcus teased. “We benefited from his loss.”

  “Funny guy,” Kurt muttered. On the ride to South Carolina, he’d vaguely remembered everything, enough to know he probably wouldn’t feel slighted if he never saw Eva again. Apparently the woman had some wind to go with that suction. She’d told the club he’d passed out cold.

  “So you’re a drunk,” Suzette said, bitter accusation in her tone. “Perfect.” She pointed at Bart. “I guess this occupation drives everyone to drink.”

  “Oh I’m not a cop, ma’am,” Kurt said, a little play in his voice. “But I carry around some of their equipment—you know the usual handcuffs and such—if you’re interested.”

  Blaez snorted. Marcus and Randon laughed.

  “If he’s carrying handcuffs, they’re probably not for their original intended purposes,” Bart muttered.

  “Let’s hope not,” Suzette said, definitely flirting. A beat later, she added, “But it’s none of my business. It’s not like we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”

  So much for flirting.

  “I wouldn’t bet on that fact, ma’am.” Kurt turned away then, licking his wounds.

  Randon sniffed. Pageant—doggone her—smirked. Bart and Blaine looked lost, which made Kurt second guess why he and Randon were working with two “former” cops
in the first place.

  “Randon tells me it took you a few hours to get here. Where are you from, Mr. Dandridge?”

  “Since we won’t be spending a lot of time together, what does it matter?”

  Lick. Lick. Lick.

  “You insulted him,” Blaez told her. “He’s pouting.”

  “Damn right,” Kurt bit out. After an uncomfortable silence, he added, “Outside of Atlanta. I ride with the Bold and Free.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, indicating his bike. “That’s me over there.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I see the resemblance. Strong, sturdy, and definitely noticeable.” She moistened her mouth and added, “Just the way a woman likes them.”

  “Suzette!” Bart snapped.

  “Patch gave you away, Dandridge,” Blaine said nervously, slapping Kurt on the back and going out of his way to steer him away from Suzette. “How about we go inside? Place is empty. We should be able to use everything from the offices to their vehicles.”

  “What do you mean by empty exactly?” Kurt eyed the white cruisers parked outside the local sheriff’s office.

  “They’re all gone or leaving.” Randon provided the reply with regret strewn through his voice.

  “What do you mean, they’re all gone?”

  “Some skipped town. Some are missing.” Randon grabbed the door when Kurt swung it open. “Most of ‘em are dead, Kurt. And that’s why we’re all here. This town’s population wasn’t quite two hundred before the killings started. Now they’re at a hundred and nine. At this rate, the town will be a ghost town in a few more days.”

  “I take it he’s struck more than once.” When the others looked at him with blank expressions, he added, “In other words, it’s not like Pleasant where a bunch of people were found lying on the side of the road?”

  “That surprises you?” Suzette asked.

  “No.” Kurt thought about the previous attacks. “Yes, actually. He—or they—are usually in and out in a few days. Unless…” He stopped abruptly.

  “Unless?” Suzette leaned forward and cocked her head like she was straining to hear his reply.