Club Princess - Nicole James Page 0,12
than Rock let me in on.
Suddenly her gaze flickers beyond me and widens. I turn to look, seeing nothing unusual about the fast food joint on the corner. The bike rocks as she scrambles off. I make a grab for her arm, but she darts through traffic toward the restaurant. “Lola!”
What the fuck?
A box truck pulls up next to me before I can swing the bike around and I lose sight of her. Traffic has me pinned in with no room to maneuver the bike. I curse as I’m forced to wait precious seconds until the light changes.
Finally, traffic starts to move, and I’m able to cut someone off to jump over to the right turn lane. I circle around the corner and roll in another entrance. Parking in a spot, I jump off the bike and search the lot for Lola. I don’t see her anywhere. The only activity is a customer pulling out.
I dash in the restaurant and search the place, scanning every table. I even push open the door to the restroom, scaring the crap out of a woman and her kid.
“Sorry, ma’am. Lookin’ for my ol’ lady. Anyone else in here?”
She shakes her head and flees, her grip tight on her toddler’s hand. I check the stalls but they’re empty.
Goddamn it. I kick the trashcan in anger.
I stalk back out to my bike, cursing that I ever agreed to this fool’s errand. I glance up and down the street, but there’s no sign of her, and I’ve got a bad feeling that this is only a hint of the trouble this chick’s going to give me. I climb on my bike and roll out of the lot, coasting slowly and searching every doorway and alley. I make the circuit for three blocks in each direction before I realize I’m going to have to call Rock and get him to pull up her location again.
Fucking hell.
CHAPTER NINE
Lola—
I dash across the lot toward Trez’s pickup truck. I can’t believe he was really getting food. Spotting him was a fluke. This is twice I’ve gotten lucky today, and I’m not counting on it happening again.
He’s just setting the bags and drinks down on his bench seat when I yank the passenger door open. He glances up, startled.
“What the hell, sis. What are you doing here?”
I jump in and slam the door, then slide down to the floorboard, hiding. “Hear that motorcycle idling out on the street?”
“Yeah.” He glances around.
“That’s a Royal Bastard. Guy named Memphis. Dad sent him to find me. Hurry. Drive.”
“Shit.” Trez mutters as he reaches for the ignition.
“Just act normal. He doesn’t know who you are,” I say.
Trez backs slowly out and turns the wheel. “Stay down. He’s pulling in.”
I’m practically hyperventilating and my pulse is beating a mile a minute. I can hear the sound of the motorcycle shut off. The pickup rocks as Trez pulls out onto the street, his eyes on the rearview mirror.
“He parked and now he’s off the bike, searching the lot. Christ, he’s a damn Nomad, Lola. Just saw his fucking patch.”
We drive two blocks before I crawl up from the floorboards and warn my brother. “Don’t go back to the motel.”
He looks over at me. “Why not?”
“Mason Lockwood showed up.”
“Fuck.” He makes a turn, changing course and heads south.
“Who is he, Trez?”
“Just some guy I met at the casino.”
“He said you played poker at his house. Said you had a lot of money. You didn’t lose my money at the Harrah’s, like you said, did you?”
Trez lights up a cigarette and takes a deep drag, his eyes on the road. “No. He say anything else?”
“He said you stole something from him.”
My brother looks over at me. “He cheated me out of all that money, Lola. So I stole something I thought I might be able to pawn for what he owed me, but I could only get five hundred for it.”
“Trez, Lockwood said it’s worth twenty thousand.”
He stares at me opened mouthed. “You’re shitting me.”
I shake my head.
“That son-of-a-bitch.” He puts the cigarette between his lips, looks in his rearview, and jumps over two lanes to make a turn.
I clutch the doorframe. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“That little Vietnamese shyster ripped me off.”
“Who?”
“The guy at the pawn shop.”
Trez is driving like a maniac, and although he’s skilled, he’s still scaring the crap out of me. “Slow down. Where are we going?”
“Back to get that damn statue.”
“Statue? You stole a statue?”
“It wasn’t that big, maybe the size of a