Destroying the Biker (Book 8): (The Biker Series ) Page 2
Yawning, I put some moisturizer on my face and walked into the living room to call Dwayne. He answered on the second ring.
“Hi, Dwayne. It’s me. Ava. I heard the news.”
“Sorry for your loss,” he replied in that gravelly voice of his. I could hear him light up a cigarette and then take a long drag. “Such a waste.”
I wanted to say that my loss happened a long time ago, but he already knew that. “Yeah.”
Dwayne let out a ragged sigh. “You know, it might not mean a lot to you now, but your mother loved you.”
“Just not enough to get help,” I said wryly.
“She tried a few times to clean herself up and get you back. She just wasn’t strong enough to resist her drug habit. What she needed was to enter a treatment center, but refused to. She always thought they were too expensive.”
I laughed harshly. “And heroin wasn’t?”
“I know. You’re preaching to the choir, darlin’. I’m with you. One of the reasons why we split up all those years ago, was because of drugs. Of course, she didn’t hit the hard stuff until after you were born.”
“Great. I guess I was the catalyst for that, huh?”
“Not you. Your father taking off on her is what did it. He was such a jackass. Sorry, Ava”
“No need to apologize. I never met the guy.” All I knew about my old man was that she’d met him while working at a casino. My mother had been a dealer, back before her addictions, and he’d been a customer. After winning a few big hands, he asked her out. Knowing it was against the casino’s rules, she declined, but then ran into him a week later at a local mall. That time he’d been able to talk her into dinner and then romanced her until she fell in love with him and eventually became pregnant. Unfortunately, she learned later that he’d been only using her to try and win big at the casino. After finding out that she was carrying his child, he admitted that he was already married with a family of his own and asked her to get an abortion. She refused and he walked out of her life. It had been a devastating blow.
“I met him,” he admitted. “I worked on his car once when it broke down.”
“Really? Nobody ever mentioned that,” I replied.
I remembered something about Dwayne’s family owning an auto body shop, and how he’d wanted Andrew to take over the business one day.
“It wasn’t anything we wanted to talk about, you know?”
“Yeah.” If memory served me correctly, Dwayne and Sheila had always been pretty civil to each other, for the most part.
“Anyway, the funeral is next Friday. I’ll get you the address here in a second. It’s in the kitchen. Hold on.”
I grabbed a notepad and a pen. “Who’s paying for it? Andrew?”
“Not him, I’ll tell you that. I was able to locate an old friend of Andrew’s and he gave me his phone number. I’ve left him several messages, but he hasn’t returned my calls.”
“You told him about Sheila?”
“Of course. I know he’s pissed off at both of us, but the least he could do is call me back.”
“If he doesn’t, hopefully he’ll at least show up at the funeral,” I answered.
The Andrew I remembered had been stubborn, but he’d also had a heart. I couldn’t imagine that after finding out about his mother dying he wouldn’t at least attend the funeral, no matter how angry he’d been.
“Let’s hope he does attend,” he replied in a tired voice. “I’d like to smooth things over with him, too. Life’s too short to hold grudges. He’s an adult. If he wants to hang out with one-percenters, that’s his prerogative. I’ll accept it, I guess. I just want my son back.”
“What’s a one-percenter?”
“It refers to illegal motorcycle clubs. Ninety-nine percent of clubs are law-abiding citizens. The one-percenters take the law into their own hands.”
“Oh.”
We talked a little longer and then he gave me the information about the funeral.
“You never did mention who’s paying for it,” I said, thinking that if needed, I could chip in.
“I am.”
His answer surprised me.
“You? Why?” I asked.
“As pissed off as I was at the woman, I always had a soft spot for her. Hell, she was the mother of my child.” He let out a weary sigh. “Whom we both obviously disappointed. Anyway, someone’s got to bury her. She may not have lived with a lot of dignity, but I’m going to make sure she gets buried with some.”
My heart warmed at the gesture, and his words made my eyes misty. “That’s very nice of you.” I replied quietly.
He chuckled. “Do me a favor though, don’t go tellin’ folks I’m footin’ the bill. Being ‘nice’ isn’t a good trait in my line of work.”
“And what is it that you do?”
“I’m a debt collector,” he replied.
I suddenly remembered the last conversation my mother had with Andrew before he stopped coming over. They’d been talking about how Dwayne worked for the mob.
“Now you’re following in your father’s footsteps. What in the world are you thinking by hanging out with a gang of criminals?”
“They’re not a gang and they’re not criminals!” he’d replied angrily. “It’s a club and those guys are my friends. They’ve got their shit together and are going to help me get mine.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t say a word,” I replied. It wasn’t any of my business and I was relieved that he’d volunteered to pay for her funeral anyway. “If you want any money—”
“Keep it, Ava. I appreciate the offer, but it’s all paid for.”
“Well, thank you.”
“No problem. Hey, would you like Andrew’s phone number?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, grabbing the pen again.
“Maybe he’ll talk to you,” he mumbled after giving it to me.
“I’d like to think that he would, but it’s been so long.”
“He always loved you. If anyone can get him to talk, it will be you.”
I smiled.
Dwayne sighed. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on Friday. Unless, you want to get together beforehand and have dinner or something.”
“I’m in Vegas right now in the middle of a shoot. I probably won’t be back until the day of the funeral.”
“That’s right. Millie said you were a stuntwoman. That must be pretty exciting work.”
“It can be.”
“You ever get hurt?”
“Not yet,” I muttered, knocking on the wooden sofa table lightly for luck. My superstitious nature hated when people asked that question. It was a sure way to jinx someone.
“That’s good. Oh, my pizza is done. I gotta go. See you soon?”
“Yeah.”
We hung up and I called the number he gave me. Unfortunately, Andrew didn’t answer and he used an impersonal, automated voicemail greeting, so I couldn’t even be certain if we had the right number.
“Hi, Andrew. It’s Ava. Your sister,” I said, laughing nervously. “Surprise, huh? It’s been such a long time. Too long. Anyway, I would really like to talk to you, so please call me back.”
I left him my phone number and then hung up, hoping he’d call me back. There was a lot I wanted to say, like how much he’d meant to me, especially during the darkest times of my life. Even just the memory of his smile had given me comfort when I’d needed it the most. He was all I had left of my childhood; the best part of it. I honestly didn’t care if he went to the funeral. I just wanted to see him again and hoped he felt the same.
Chapter 3
Ava
A LOUD KNOCK on the door jolted me awake. I’d fallen asleep reading a book about World War II, which always fascinated me. My biological mother’s ancestors, who’d been Jewish, had escaped East Berlin and somehow managed to move to America and start over. From what I’d learned, they were now all gone and my last living relatives had been my mother and Andrew. Still, I had to wonder if I had others still living in Germany. I’d b
een thinking about having my DNA tested through an online ancestry company and decided that as soon as I was done with the movie, I’d look into it.
Getting out of the recliner, I set the book down and headed over to the front door, wondering who could be visiting me. Nobody had called or sent a message, and unexpected visitors annoyed the hell out of me. Wondering if I should even answer the door, I peeked through the peep-hole and swore under my breath when I saw who it was.
Hunter Calloway.
Trying not to lose my cool, I unlocked the door and faced him. “Hunter, what are you doing here?”
Hunter, who was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a Tommy Bahama shirt, grinned. “I received your message. I’m glad you changed your mind.” He held up a paper bag. “I brought over a bottle of Cristal.”
I stared at him in confusion. “What message?”
His smile faltered. “Didn’t you text me?”
“No.”
He pulled out his phone and showed me the message he’d received.
I changed my mind about dinner. Let’s just make it the two of us. Wendy has my address.
Wendy was his personal assistant and definitely did not have my phone number. At least not that I was aware of.
“Let me see that,” I said, grabbing his cell to get a closer look. I checked the phone number the text came from and it wasn’t mine. “I think you have me confused with someone else.” I handed it back to him. “That’s definitely not my phone number.”
He looked embarrassed. “You’re kidding? I am so sorry. Hmm… I guess I don’t know who sent me it either then. You’re the only person who has ever turned me down for dinner, so I assumed it was you.”
“You obviously made a mistake. You should have asked.”
“You’re right. I was just so elated to think you wanted to share a meal with an old goat like me,” he replied and looked away. “Damn, I feel like a stupid fool.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Mistakes happen,” I said, wondering again if maybe I was being too critical about the man. He honestly looked embarrassed about the ordeal.
“Well, I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry, again.”
“No problem.” I began closing the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait.” He put his hand up, preventing the door from shutting.
“Yes?”
He pulled the bottle of Cristal out of the bag. “Here, I usually don’t drink champagne; too much of it gives me heartburn. Why don’t you keep it? After working so hard today, I bet you could use a glass to unwind.”
“No, I couldn’t take that,” I said, staring at the high-priced bottle. Admittedly, it did look appealing and I was sure he’d spent a good deal on the champagne. “Save it for another day.”
He glanced at the bottle and then back to me. He grinned. “Hey, I know… why don’t we just share a quick glass together and then I’ll be on my way? Otherwise, I can almost guarantee that it will go to waste.”
I sighed and relented. Hunter looked so hopeful that I didn’t have the heart to send him away.
“Okay.” I stepped back. “Come on in.”
“Excellent.” He stepped into the house, smelling as if he’d bathed in aftershave. The scent was so overpowering, it started giving me another headache. I backed away as he looked around the living room. “Nice place, by the way. Is it yours?”
“No. It’s just a rental,” I replied, walking around him toward the kitchen. “What about you? Where are you holed up?”
“The MGM Grand. I always stay there.”
“Nice. Come on into the kitchen.”
Hunter followed me.
“I can take that,” I said, when we were both by the center island.
He handed me the bottle.
“I guess I should have known something wasn’t right when you answered the door in your yoga outfit. Not that you look bad,” he mused. “You just look settled in for the evening.”
I looked down at my attire. “I was actually thinking about going for a jog soon.”
“It’s getting dark outside,” he said, walking around the kitchen island to where I stood by the sink. “That’s kind of dangerous for an attractive woman like yourself, don’t you think?”
I shrugged. “I can handle myself.”
“That’s right, you’ve had some martial arts training, right?” he said, leaning back against the counter to watch as I reached up toward the champagne glasses. Unfortunately, they were just out of my reach.
“Among other things,” I murmured, irritated that I couldn’t get to the flutes. I was just about to ask for Hunter’s assistance, when he moved up behind me.
“Here, let me help you with those.”
“Oh. Okay,” I replied, thinking he was a little too close for comfort.
He reached up and grabbed two glasses. I could feel his warm breath in my hair, which made me grip the counter tightly in annoyance. “By the way, you smell lovely,” he said near my ear. “I noticed that when we were filming, too.”
“Thanks,” I replied tightly.
He backed away and then watched as I removed the cellophane from the bottle and popped the cork.
“Impressive,” he said as I began to pour the bubbly into the champagne flutes. “You look like a pro. Do you drink champagne often?”
“No. I do enjoy a glass of wine now and again, though,” I replied.
“Really? You’ll have to come and visit my wine cellar at my place on Martha’s Vineyard. What’s your fancy? Red or white?”
“I don’t know, really. I do prefer a sweeter wine that’s not too heavy.” I shrugged. “I mean… I’m not a true ‘connoisseur’. I just like a glass once in a while.”
Watching me pour the champagne, he grinned. “I used to be strictly a beer drinker until someone educated me on wine. I’m not exactly a wine aficionado, but I know now what I like and what I won’t like. I also know what pairs good with different types of food.”
“What kind of wine do you prefer?”
“Usually you’ll find me with a Cabernet Sauvignon, when I’m in the mood. Admittedly, I have a bit of a sweet tooth as well, so when I’m not drinking wine, you’ll find me with a rum and Coke.”
“Ah.” I pushed his glass toward him. “Thanks again for sharing your champagne. I have a feeling after this, I’ll be going to bed instead of hitting the pavement.”
“You mean jogging?”
I nodded.
He picked up his glass. “Good, because I still don’t feel comfortable knowing that you’d be out in the dark, especially dressed like that,” Hunter replied, his gaze sweeping over my outfit again.
“Eh,” I waved a dismissive hand, “I can take care of myself,” I repeated.
“You sure don’t lack courage, that’s for sure. Let’s toast, shall we? To new friends?” he said, holding his glass up.
“To new friends,” I said, clinking my glass against his.
We both took a sip of champagne and then his stomach growled.
“Pardon me,” he said, looking embarrassed.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t have anything in the refrigerator, otherwise I’d make you something.”
“We could go out and grab a bite to eat,” he suggested.
“I already had dinner. Anyway, it’s getting late.” I glanced at the clock on the microwave. “We both have to be on the set early tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“I don’t have to be there until noon.”
“Lucky you,” I snorted.
“I bet if you wanted to go in late, I could talk to the director,” he said, taking another sip of champagne.
“I don’t need to go in later. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to the others.”
He stared at me. “God, you have the most beautiful eyes. I bet you hear that all the time though, don’t you?”
Crap, here we go…
“Thank you,” I said, stiffening up.
“You don’t like it when someone compliments you, do you?”
Amused, he chuckled. “Okay, I get it. You’re not into me. It’s too bad because I think we could be good for each other.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. I could help further your career and… well, how could you not be good for me? You’re young and beautiful—and obviously talented.” He added that last part as if it would make his compliments less creepy.
I laughed harshly. At least he was honest. “Hunter, my career is perfect, thank you very much.”
He took another sip of champagne. “We all know how quickly things change in this industry. One moment everyone wants you. The next, you’re struggling to find work.”
“I’ve been pretty fortunate in that department.”
“And why do you think that is?” he asked with a sly grin.
I lifted my chin. “Because I’m good at what I do.”
“True, but there are dozens of other stuntwomen, with much more experience, vying for movies like this. You are relatively new to the industry. The fact that you were able to hook this movie must have surprised you.”
I didn’t know what he was getting at, but something in his eyes made my stomach twist. It was certainly true that I’d struck gold in getting hired for the movie, but I hadn’t thought it was exactly a miracle. It definitely wasn’t my first gig, but obviously the best so far.
“Maybe a little. What are you getting at?” I asked, frowning.
“I visited the set of your last movie. Do you remember?”
“I think someone might have mentioned it to me.”
He smiled. “You were in the middle of a shoot when I showed up. The moment I saw you, I thought you’d be great for this film. Hell, from a distance you could even pass for Valerie, although I must say you’re much prettier.”