Chasing Storm: A Dark Chicago Underworld Romantic Suspense (Storm Duet 2)

By Denise Baer

A street fighter and his childhood crush. A forced marriage. Both are hellbent on leaving the streets of Chicago, except the gang alliance won't let them. They're on the run.

Born to leaders of rival gangs, Teagan and Joey's upbringing is rough. They fight against their own prisons, but ultimately, the

• Language: English
• Publisher: Baer Books Press
• Release date: Mar 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9781958343098

Denise Baer

Denise Baer has gone through life in ecstasy (not the drug). At times, she couldn’t quite remember where she was or how she got there. But that’s a story for when she gets to know you. For now, she’d like to concentrate on her successes..., which aren’t too many. She’s not an award-winning author, never starred in a porn, or entered a beauty contest.She’s just a regular gal who likes potato chips on her sandwiches and says ‘member’ instead of remember. You can take the girl out of Chicago but you can’t take Chicago out of the girl. If flip-flops were the only form of footwear, she’d go without because she’s not crazy about feet thongs.A life in Germany hasn’t stopped her from letting her national roots sprout. She sings with the windows wide-open, screams at the television while watching the Chicago Bears, and talks to her dog, Shakespeare, during their daily walks. She’s known as the ‘American’, and while shopping, bike riding or walking, let’s out a few loud ‘Guten Morgen’ or ‘Guten Tag’s’, which shakes everyone up. And she won’t hesitate to use a screwdriver when locked out of her flat to open the door Chicago style.During the winter months, Denise can be found on the couch, writing or revising with a spiced chai in her hand. And in the summer, out on the balcony with a Captain Morgan and Coke Light.If you want to check her out or put her on your banned list, please stop by one of my sites. Any one of them will do. Tschüß!

Book preview

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Denise Baer

Baer Books Press

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Baer Books Press

baerbookspress.com

Published in the United States of America

by Baer Books Press.

Copyright @ Denise Baer 2023.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, or stored in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, without the express written permission of the author.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-958343-09-8

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-958343-10-4

Proofreader: Stuart Budgen

Cover Design: Natasha at Dazed-Designs

Photo of Skyline: Max Bender

Photo of Woman: John Rocha

Author’s Note

Hello, you wonderful dark romance readers. I hope you’re enjoying Joey and Teagan’s tumultuous relationship. Now, get ready to go on the run with them. This book is darker and dirtier.

Again, it’s loaded with triggers, and is for mature audiences. You can find a list of triggers on my website: authordenisebaer.com

Now grab a drink, a fan, some toys, and enjoy! For those of you only here for the smut, check out chapters 3, 4, 7, 15, 16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 24, 25, and 26.

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Thanks!

A big thank you to all my readers and supporters. Reviews are so important to indie authors, so if you can find the time to leave a review, a few sentences are all that’s needed. I would be forever grateful.

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This is for all the good girls out there, with a little bad in them.

I got your back.

Teagan

Chapter 1

What started out as a forced marriage to forge an alliance has now become the life I was meant to lead. Joey is more than I could have ever imagined. My childhood friend, nemesis, and now husband, has gone from stranger to lover in a matter of months. Wanting out of our environment was the main factor that brought us together. A gangster’s princess and a street fighter, determined to uproot our Chicago lives and start anew. And it’s easy to do it now since our fathers are out of the picture. Mine died and Joey’s dad is missing in action. But we haven’t got time to worry about his disappearing act now, and as soon as Joey transfers leadership over to one of his bodyguards, Frankie, we’ll be on our way.

The air is heavy when we reach Frankie’s house. I stare at it, and dread steams the car windows as I notice the influx of men.

With a last plea, I ask Joey, Promise me you won’t change your mind?

He grins at my comment. Not in a million years.

My Romeo.

Inside the house, I’m told to sit outside a door while Joey goes into a room to talk to Frankie. Snow balances on the window ledges behind me, while spider ice forms along its frame. Another man stands at the end of the hall, hands folded in front, eyes straight ahead, but watching my every move. My leg bounces, wondering what’s being said since it’s so quiet. Too quiet. I hope Joey didn’t walk into an ambush, except why would he? He’s giving over his reign to Frankie without hesitation. No argument. Frankie has a good rapport with many in Cooper’s Crew, and Joey has planted the seed in many people’s heads.

The man in the hall presses his finger to his ear like he’s listening for instructions. Maybe instructions on what to do with me? This gesture doesn’t help my growing anxiousness. It isn’t until Joey comes barreling out of the room, grabbing my arm and rushing to the car, that every nerve screams and pokes at my skin.

I stumble, glance over my shoulder, waiting for someone to come running after us. What happened? A rush of blood pounds in my ears, muffling the questions I’m firing off at Joey. He’s too focused on getting to the car, ordering me in, and squealing the tires down the street. My mouth has gone dry, eyes darting to the side mirror, anticipating a swarm of men gaining traction.

My questions go unanswered until he tells me to call Sean and then he reveals everything. Words vibrate in my head. Black market. A hit on Joey. Five million dollars. This was a done deal. Frankie was supposed to take over Cooper’s Crew and we’re supposed to be starting a new life. Instead, Frankie wants in. He claims he needs the money to overthrow Leo. Leo! My brother. Not only did Frankie double-cross Joey, but he also plans on destroying my family. It might not have been the family life I wanted, but it’s my brother.

I’m crying. Sweating. There are no words to explain this change in events. Joey and I peeled away our layers—an exposed rawness—in order for us to move on. Make a boring life for ourselves. This was our time to flourish and follow our dreams. Now, those dreams are wrenched from us. Silenced by a vindictive, unknown person who has put us in the direct line of a tornado as danger barrels down on us.

We’ve been on the road, swapping out the car, and then BAM, Joey tells me he’s going to drop me off in a town I’ve never been to. Without him. Did I get sucked into the Twilight Zone? What about us? Our goals? We are a package deal.

Tears corrode my argument. Joey wants to keep me safe. I want a life and death with him. He doesn’t see it my way. All he sees is running and violence. Joey believes I deserve to finish college; move to a house with a white picket fence. Marry and have children. Except I want his heart.

Joey has become my life. A man draped in danger yet who treats me like a queen. And not just any queen, but his queen. I’ve never been anyone’s anything, let alone a queen. He’s my lifeline, and it doesn’t matter if our lives are cut short. It wouldn’t be much of a life if Joey wasn’t in it. My heart swells, and my body buzzes from an ethereal sexual craving at his mere touch.

I throw myself at him. My kisses, fondling hands, and words convince Joey that we belong together. We’re committed to marriage and our promises to find a better life. This road might not lead us to the life we want, but at least we’ll die in each other’s arms trying.

Joey’s driving, me snuggled against his side, thinking nothing could go wrong this soon. Then his regular phone rings, and when Joey answers and puts it on speaker, the menacing voice of James, his father, a man burning in the fires of hell, responds. The black-market hit was his doing. He’s coming after us.

Out of nowhere, someone clips our car, and we’re spinning. In my head, I can hear James’ laughter while my eyes squeeze shut and Joey’s hand presses my body against the seat. This is it. We didn’t get much of a chance. Our lives gone because of a man seething with revenge. A man diseased by the streets, and loyal to no one. Hungry to take control of all the dirtiness men do to become rich, no matter the cost to innocent lives.

The car comes to a halt, and I take a second to catch my bearings. I slowly rise into a seated position, looking at Joey. His head is bleeding.

Grabbing the bottom of my shirt, I kneel at his side, dabbing at the cut, and ask, Are you hurt anywhere else?

Joey sits me back down, pressing his palm against his head. Sit, Tea.

I follow his eyes to the other car. The driver is getting out, walking toward us, and Joey pushes me to the passenger’s side floor. He moves his hand to his left calf, shoves up his pants leg, wrapping his hand around a gun, and my eyes lock onto it. He inches his hand until the pistol rests against his thigh. The man is near his window. Joey shoulders the door open, shoots out of his seat, yet remains behind the door for protection.

The man’s hands rise in surrender when he says, Dude, I’m sorry. I was… His eyes flit to Joey’s head. Shit! You’re bleeding. Let me call—

No, I’m fine. Joey slips the gun back under his pants and falls into his seat.

But you might need stitches.

As Joey is backing up, he says, I’ll have it looked at. Have a good day.

There are sirens in the distance, so Joey doesn’t give the guy another response. In seconds, we’re back on the road, his gaze dancing between the mirror and the road, remaining silent.

Joey turns onto a dirt road, kills the engine, and turns to me. Tea, don’t ever get up unless I tell you to. That guy could have had a gun and shot you.

My mouth drops open. You’re bleeding. I’m not about to cower under the seat while your head is gushing blood.

Damn right you will if your life is in danger.

I throw my arms in the air. Don’t boss me around, Joey Cooper. We’re in this together, which means we help each other out. This isn’t—

The crazy bastard silences me with a kiss, and not just any kiss. One demonstrating he’s the boss, while at the same time apologizing for not appreciating my assistance. It quickly becomes a panty melting kiss. His hand caresses my nape, drawing me closer, and the other drifts over my back. It’s possessive, intense, yet caught between denying my words and accepting them. We pull apart, foreheads resting against each other while our breathing simmers. His blood seeps onto my temple.

Joey runs his finger along my lower lip. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.

Same. I put distance between us and wipe at his forehead. We need to rely on each other. This won’t work any other way. I use my shirt to scrub my face of his blood. He keeps pressing the palm of his hand against the cut, so I shove his arm, and say, Out! I’m driving. You need to put pressure on the wound.

This time, Joey doesn’t argue. He gets out, rounds the car, and sits in the passenger seat. Before getting behind the wheel, I rummage through my suitcase in the trunk to find a compress for him to use. An old Van Halen shirt will do. I toss him the shirt, start the car, and continue eastward.

Joey fiddles with the radio, finding a station we both can enjoy while driving. At this point, we don’t have a game plan. All I know is Joey wants as much distance between us and Chicago as possible, except I’m too hungry to venture far. Off the main road sits a dive bar, so I park toward the back.

His eyes appear tired when he asks, What are we doing here? We can’t waste time.

I shove the car keys into my pocket. After we eat something.

Joey’s head drops onto the headrest and his eyes close. I’m too tired to eat.

My internal alarms go off. He might have a concussion, so I pat his cheeks. Come on, Joey, stay awake. Let’s get something in our stomachs before the long haul east.

It’s dark inside the bar. A perfect place for hiding his injury and the blood on our hands and clothes. Our first stop is to the washrooms, to clean up, where Joey waits for me. We find a corner table, shadowed by a lack of light. Several sets of eyes follow our movements. The place smells of stale beer and vomit. There are tables and booths scattered around the place, and a small stage on one wall adjacent to the bar. I’m guessing strangers aren’t welcome because the bartender wears a heavy scowl. His ragged beard sports gray hair to counter the loss on top of his head. Arms stretch out, leaning on the bar. Cataract eyes bore into mine while I head toward him.

I smile. Good afternoon.

Nothing. Just a stare.

I was wondering if you have any menus.

Without taking his eyes off me, he reaches under the bar and produces them.

Thanks. My eyes wander to the menu and back to him. May I have two cokes, please?

The man lets out a frustrated sigh, lines the glasses up, and shoots the soda gun into both. I thank him, tucking the menus under my arm, and join Joey.

His eyes are closed, so I nudge him and say, Stay awake.

I shove a menu into his hand, settle on burgers and fries, and place the order with the over-friendly bartender. Two older men hug the bar, pampering their beers as they watch me through the mirror behind the bar. An older couple sits at a table one over from ours. The woman’s wig is lopsided, and her clothes squeeze her body to the point of overflow. Her breasts, waist, and thighs push past the material, resting a hand on the man’s dirty overalls. When he smiles at her, all his front teeth are missing.

I turn to Joey, whose eyes are half-lidded. Drink your coke. It will perk you up.

So far, he hasn’t argued, which makes me nervous. Joey’s too complacent. In my purse, I toss around the contents until I find some Tylenol and give it to him.

The door opens and light shoots into the bar, assaulting our eyes, which have adjusted to the darkness. Joey’s hands block the light and my eyes narrow to minimize the glare as a police officer saunters in. His footfalls are leaden. He scans the bar and then his eyes lock on our table. Tucking his thumbs into his extended waistband, he approaches us, puts a toothpick in his mouth, and chews on it for several seconds.

Without any introductions, he asks, You two involved in the car accident back there?

I don’t even give Joey a chance to speak. No, Sir.

He eyes the two of us. Looks like he’s got a head injury.

He tripped and fell on a rock while hiking.

The toothpick shifts to the other side of his mouth while he appraises us, chewing and head tilting. He scopes out the rest of the bar, acknowledging the other patrons.

The officer returns his attention to us, lets out a breath through his nose, and says, All right then.

Without uttering another word, he tips his hat toward the bartender and the other patrons and leaves. I hurry to tell the bartender we’d like the food to-go.

With our orders in the backseat, Joey dosing off next to me, I drive, not paying much attention to where we’re headed.

Teagan

Chapter 2

Joey’s head lolls to the side, periodically wrenching upward when he’s awakened by a bump or a sound. Tiredness wreaks havoc on his appearance. A redness circles his eyes, and his hair is a topple of black spikes plastered from sweat and blood against his skull and forehead. I’m worried about his head wound. My hand reaches over to rest on his arm to assure myself he’s fine. This man had first hurled me into hating him, then loving him, and now… well, I can’t imagine a life without him.

Joey has filled in the cracks made from my shrewd parents. Smoothed out my rough edges like stones in a stream. I’ve recently lost my father, but he was gone long ago. Gang life chewed at his insides, making him a hollow man. A man riveted by money and power. My mother is around somewhere, I’m sure looking for someone who will allow her the luxuries she’s grown accustomed to. Our mother/daughter relationship soured at the first hint she preferred being on her knees to please my father than filling a motherly role.

But it’s my brother Leo who I’ll miss. The only one who tried to shelter me from violence and our parents’ lack of parenting. Thinking about Leo reminds me that I forgot to call and warn him. Joey explained what had happened while we took off on the run. Leo has no idea about Frankie’s intentions. I fumble in my purse to find the phone, accidently knocking Joey in the arm.

Conscious and confused, he asks, What are you doing?

Trying to find my phone. We never called Leo. He doesn’t know about Frankie. Now the urgency to call him speeds up my heartbeat, and I’m frantic, tossing things out of my purse. Leo might be ambushed.

Joey’s hand stops mine. Calm, Tea. I’ll call Leo. No one’s ambushing him, especially not Frankie who doesn’t have the money.

As the phone rings, I take the ramp off the highway so I can think better. It doesn’t make sense, but neither does turning down the radio when you’re trying to find a parking space. Or looking both ways while crossing a one-way street.

Leo picks up right at the moment Joey says to me, Shit! We’re heading into Detroit.

Leo is on the line asking, Tea? Is that you?

Joey tells me to pull over at the first opportunity, which is by a chained fence. Vicious dogs snarl and bark as Joey directs me out of the car. He hands me the phone and we switch places.

Buckled into the passenger seat, I respond, It’s me, Leo. Sorry about that.

Thank God. Where are you? Did I hear right? Detroit?

Listen to me, Leo. You’re in danger.

Is this about the hit on Joey?

Yes. And Frankie plans to do the deed so he can overthrow you. In order to bump you out, he is banking on the money.

Leo curses. I hear him walking and then a door slams. Where are you, Tea?

With Joey.

He shouts into the phone. Are you nuts? You’re as good as dead if you stay with him, which surprises me.

Joey cuts in, Hey dickhead, you’re on speaker phone.

Leo snaps back, I don’t give a fuck. You’re putting my sister’s life at risk.

To stop their Brenemy fight, I say, No he’s not, Leo. It was my choice.

Why? I thought you hated the asshole.

Joey barks out, Still on speaker phone, jackass.

I purse my lips to stop from laughing. They’re worse than an incel forum, and this is not the time to find humor in anything.

Both of you, please. I give Joey a look and he concentrates on driving. This isn’t the time to fight. Leo, I chose to be with Joey, because I love him.

Yeah, but—

At some point, we can have a conversation about it. Right now, I’m warning you about Frankie. He plans to take over Chicago. To do so, he needs the hit money.

Thanks. I’ll take care of it. Now, about you—

We’re—

Joey pisses out curse words. We gotta get out of here.

Leo pipes in, Where are you?

Joey pauses and then says, Detroit.

Yeah, but approximately where? There are gangs galore, and everyone knows about—

Not helping.

There’s some noise, tapping sounds, and Leo saying, Okay. My tech guy pulled up the cameras in Detroit. Give me the street names where you’re at.

Again, Joey pauses, and gives me a side glance. I mouth, We can trust him. He’s my brother.

Joey rattles off our location and Leo directs us down side streets while I take in the area. Half-standing carcasses of buildings line the streets, spray-painted and boarded up. Guys are hanging out in doorways, alleyways, and in front of abandoned buildings, no doubt dealing and negotiating illegals.

Joey says, SUV behind us. Tinted windows.

The sound of shots splinters the air.

Down, Tea!

Joey and Leo are shouting out information at each other. Joey’s telling him about the situation and street names, and Leo is directing him out of here. It’s chaos. A bullet shatters my side window, whizzing past Joey’s nose. My hands cover my head as I scream. Joey’s flooring the gas pedal, taking turns on two wheels, and weaving through the alleyways. Unfortunately, this is an old car which has seen its days of drag racing. From my vantage point, I notice the SUV inching along the passenger side of our car, and I tug on Joey’s pants to get his attention. He yanks the wheel to the right, sideswiping the vehicle. It only puts them back a few feet, rearing alongside us again. We’re approaching an intersection, so Joey slams on the brakes, whips the car 180 degrees, and floors it. My body slides from Joey to the door and back, still cradling my head.

Leo’s shouting out commands, advising me to hit the floor while shouting at someone else. He tells Joey one of his guys is five minutes out. The SUV hasn’t relented. They’re coming at us, and Joey is doing everything to shake them off. Leo instructs Joey to