“It’s sort of the same thing, though, right? You have to get their support, and to do that there has to be some sort of benefit they get from you.”
“Again, Cannon, what do you want? Why are you here?”
“All I want is your word that you won’t come after the Savage Kings if you’re elected. We recently lost all of our businesses because of bullshit fire code violations. Chief Bailey called in some favors and had our business permits revoked because one of the club members is dating his daughter. Is that the kind of politician you’re going to be? Using your position for personal vendettas?”
“No. I’m not quite that vindictive.”
“But you are a little vindictive?”
Sighing, I march over to the door and pull it open, hoping he’ll get the hint. “You’re wasting my time, and I have a million things I need to be doing.”
“Then put me to work,” he says, coming to stand so close that the toes of our shoes are nearly touching. Even with the cool, fresh air coming in from outside, I can smell his clean scent mixed with his rich cologne. It suddenly feels like it’s about a hundred degrees outside instead of fifty.
“You want to work for me?” I look up at his face in surprise.
“Yeah, and I’ve got two other guys who are ready and willing to help too,” he says. He lifts his arm over his head, waving at someone in the parking lot.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” I tell him.
“Are you saying you don’t need our help?” His deep blue eyes stare down at me, and it’s like being pulled under by a riptide. I could try and fight him, that’s my first instinct, but that would only make me drown faster. So, I do something that I don’t normally do. I give in.
“Fine. But you can’t stand around arguing with me all day or I won’t get anything done.”
“Then tell me what you need, and I’ll do it with only one condition.”
Great. There are conditions. Should have known it wasn’t just him being nice out of the kindness of his heart.
“What’s your condition?” I grind my back teeth together, expecting him to say something perverse like I have to sleep with him.
Instead, Cannon says, “You never leave my sight.”
I stare up at his face, trying to figure out if he’s serious or if this is some twisted way for him to try and get close to me, spend time with me and get me into his bed. “You must be joking.” No one is that desperate for sex, especially not the man who practically oozes it out of his every pore.
“Bailey is going to try and come after you. Trust me on that,” he says. “That’s how determined he is to win.”
“And that’s the only reason you want to hang around?”
“Yes.”
Am I disappointed by his quick response that sounds so convincing? God, no. But I am starting to think that maybe he’s actually telling the truth about how low the former police chief would go to beat me. It’s a scary thought but one I’m sure he’s exaggerating.
“You can’t lurk around all day and night.”
“Try me.”
“You have to sleep sometime,” I point out.
“Which is where these two knuckleheads come in handy,” Cannon says, nodding his head toward the parking lot. I glance over and see two young guys approaching, both a few years younger than Cannon, but wearing the same black leather vest.
“Who are they?”
“Prospects.”
“Prospects?” I repeat.
“They do what I or any of the Kings say to do without question; and in a few months, they might become one of us. They’re like the perfect errand boys. Give them a job, and they’ll do it.”
“Just like that?” I ask.
“Just like that.”
“Are they old enough to vote?” I find myself asking with a smile as they approach.
“Yes,” Cannon answers with a similar smile on his face before he turns to face them. “Prospects, meet Madison Monroe. Madison, the prospects, Jake and Lucas. No need to figure out which is which. They’ll answer to either name, isn’t that right, boys?”
“Yes, sir,” they both respond.
“Nice to meet you both.” I hold out my hand for each of them to shake, and both of them actually look at Cannon as if asking his permission to touch me. That’s ridiculous, but even more absurd is that Cannon considers it for a few seconds before finally giving a single nod.
“Hi,” the first one says shyly when he takes my hand.
“Hey, how’s it going?” the second asks with a grin, holding my hand a few seconds longer than the first. “I’m Jake,” he informs me. Both boys are classically handsome but young enough that I’m certain they still have a lot to learn about the world before I would classify them as men.
“Enough,” Cannon declares, and Jake instantly lets my hand go. “Tell Miss Monroe what we did last night.”
Both boys give him wide eyes.
Cannon sighs. “Well, go on. We ain’t got all day.”
“We sat in a car outside of your townhouse,” Lucas blurts out.
“You what?” I exclaim, certain I misheard him. My mouth is gaping in disbelief when I turn back to Cannon.
The biker makes an annoyed grumbly sound and then scrubs his palm down his face. “Why were we there, boys? You just made it sound like we’re the three peeping musketeers.”
“Oh, right, to look for bad guys,” Jake says.
“And stop them from messing with you,” Lucas adds.
“That’s absolutely unnecessary and incredibly disturbing!” I tell Cannon.
“Nobody stepped foot in your townhouse, did they?” he asks.
“And they wouldn’t have even if you hadn’t been lurking around outside my house!”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” he says with a shrug. “Either way, the point is that you’re stuck with us.”
“For how long?”
“Eh, I don’t know. I guess until you win the election.”
I barely have a chance to enjoy the fact that he implied that he thinks I can win before things turn dark.
“We’re going to be stalking her until November?” Lucas exclaims in outrage. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he lowers his head submissively as if he knows he messed up before Cannon even moves.
In the blink of my eyes, Cannon has the front of Lucas’s shirt balled in his fist, tightening it around his neck. He doesn’t yell, but the quiet drawn-out words are even more menacing than if he had shouted them from the rooftop. “You will stalk her until the end of time if I tell you to, or you can leave now and forget about ever wearing the Savage Kings’ patch!” For maybe the first time since Cannon approached me yesterday, I think I’m well and truly afraid of him. Underneath his cool, flirty demeanor is a man who is capable of bad shit. I glance over at Jake to see his response, and it looks like he’s trying his best to not smile at the other boy’s discomfort, but there’s also respect in his eyes for Cannon.
“Sorry, sir,” Lucas apologizes.
There’s enough tension in the air to cut it with a knife, and however I may feel about Cannon, I refuse to let him know he scares me. Clearing my throat to get his attention off Lucas, I ask, “Do I at least get to object to being stalked?”