BROCK
“Is your name Brock?”
The voice on the other end of the line is shaky, scared and intimidated before I even start talking. I grin widely, my eyes finding the rest of my mates in the bar. I signal for them to order me another beer before finally answering the frightened woman on the phone.
“Damn right it is,” I say, my voice sounding bored. “What’s this about?”
There is a long pause on the other end of the line, and I can hear the woman breathing heavily. If it weren’t for her shaky voice, I would be convinced I was part of some prank with all her heavy breathing.
“Hello? I don’t have time for this. Either you tell me what you want or get the fuck lost,” I growl out loud. The scared whimper that comes from the receiver almost makes me regret my words.
But then again, I am Brock of the Inferno Riders. I didn’t get my bad boy reputation for nothing.
“Yes, of course,” the shaky voice continues. “My name’s Clara... You don’t know who I am. I got your name from one of my friends; you told him you’d be the right person to help me out with my ... problem.”
“And what might that the problem be?” I ask, my voice amused. Probably some bored housewife who wants to get back to her husband for cheating on her. I have trashed a fair few cars in my day, even spray-painted an office once. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone to come to me with that kind of request.
“Well, I run a little bookstore in the suburbs,” the nervous voice continues. “My name is Clara. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that ...”
She pauses nervously, and I quietly wait for her to go on. It doesn’t take long for her to gather some courage.
“I’ve been having some problems lately. Someone keeps breaking in and stealing the money from the cash register. Some books have gone missing too, old books. Collector’s editions.”
Another long pause.
“I guess it doesn’t seem like anything to you, but for my little store, it’s quite a big hit. I’m afraid I’ll have to go out of business if we don’t stop this sooner or later.”
“So what exactly do you want from me, Clara?” I ask, my eyebrows knitting together.
She actually sounds like a nice lady, a lady with a problem on her hands. Maybe I can help her out this time around. It isn’t unusual for me to do something like this, and before she even started I figure she’d asked for my help with the break-ins. I am man enough to handle this for her, and I figure she doesn’t have another person in her life who could help her.
“I was hoping you could drop by one night.”
Filthy images fill my mind, thoughts of ravaging this woman in distress. Her voice is slightly hoarse and raspy, the perfect combination of innocent and sexy. I want to hear her talk some more.
“What did you want me to do?” I ask, needing her to go on.
“This is going to sound stupid,” she giggles and it is the sweetest sound I’ve heard all day. My mates are temporarily forgotten and my mind already in the gutter. And all because of some woman I don’t even know. Shit, her voice alone is making me horny as hell.
I want to do it. I want to help her, meet her in person. See if she is just as sweet as her voice implies.
“Just come out and say it,” I say heavily. “I don’t bite. Unless you beg for it.”
“Oh!” She sounds shocked, but I can hear her excitement over the phone. “Well, if you can, I’d love it if you could drop by tomorrow night, say a little after 10 PM? I’d be willing to pay you a little, I can’t really afford much. But if you can scare them off, you’ll have my eternal gratitude. We can wait in the back of the store, turn off all the lights. I’ll be there too, just in case you need some help.”
The last sentence makes me laugh out loud. “You’re going to help me out? You sound as fragile as spun sugar, darlin’. Leave it up to me. But I don’t mind if you’re there, I guess.”
‘Course I don’t mind. Actually, I’ll be more than thrilled to have her in my company. Always loved a damsel in distress.
“I’ll be there, darlin’. Leave your back door open for me,” I say with a grin on my face. I can hear her sharp intake of air, after which she recites her address. I know the neighborhood, not in the best part of town. No wonder she is getting break-ins, her bookstore is probably the only thing that earns some money in that part of the city.
“Okay, see you then,” the nervous woman says. Am I imagining it or does she sound a little more relaxed, though? Maybe it’s nothing.
“Looking forward to it. Let’s show these guys who’s boss, shall we?”
She giggles, the sweetest sound again. After that, I end the call. My friends are already motioning for me to join them back at the bar, but my mind is still stuck on the lady on the phone. I am not usually excited about my jobs, but something tells me this one will be different.
I can’t wait for tomorrow.