Bad Ass (Nicki Sosebee #14) Read online

  Bad Ass

  (Prequel novella to the Nicki Sosebee Stories)

  with bonus story “Love and Bromance”

  Jade C. Jamison

  Copyright

  Copyright 2021 by Jade C. Jamison

  Cover image © VitalikRadko/ Depositphotos

  Cover design by Mr. Jamison

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Dear Reader,

  Want to connect with me and get a couple of free books? Join my newsletter (https://www.subscribepage.com/JadeCJamison) to get sneak peeks and find out when I’ve got a new release coming.

  Hugs!

  Jade

  Author’s Note

  Dear Reader:

  The stories in this small volume are reserved possibly for none but the most hardcore of Nicki Sosebee fans. I know from personal experience that, when you love a series deeply, you always want more, and that’s why I wrote this book.

  First up is a prequel told from Sean’s point of view, and the story afterward is best described as a series of vignettes also from Sean’s perspective, highlighting a few interactions with Jesse and Nicki; it, too, is set in time before the timeline of the Nicki Sosebee books. So why then is this novella number 14 in the series instead of number 1 (or even 0.5)? Because I really do feel that only readers completely invested in this series will appreciate the stories in this book. To those of you here wanting more, thank you—and I hope you enjoy!

  Rock on!

  Jade

  May 2021

  Bad Ass

  Chapter One

  For a date that was supposed to be a bit of a celebration, Sean Ramsey was actually having a shitty day—and, little did he know, it was about to get even worse.

  He’d just made the last trip moving his motorcycle repair shop to its new location in downtown Winchester, Colorado. Although it wasn’t on Main Street, it was in the next best place, one block away, surrounded by other businesses. In fact, one of the shops halfway down the block was working on a huge sign for this new location, but Sean would be open for business tomorrow, with or without that formal token.

  After officially closing on the property yesterday, his biker buddy Travis, a couple of his MC brothers, and Sean’s best friend Jesse had helped move the big stuff. Today, Sean had been moving in the littler items, everything from tools to office supplies, and now he was settling in to the task of putting everything in its place.

  This move had been a long time coming—no thanks to the politicians and law enforcement assholes in his small town. It had never set well with them that a poor white trash kid had made something of himself, and when Sean moved his from its tiny spot on the outskirts of town to right here in the thick of things, he knew it was the best way he could figuratively flip them off.

  Because he’d been taking tools, hardware, and various equipment out of boxes and putting them in different spots on the long shelves on the right-hand side of the shop, he hadn’t actually heard anyone walk in. The big bay doors were closed at the moment, but the smaller door was unlocked, allowing anyone to enter unannounced.

  When Sean heard a man clear his throat not too far behind him, he knew he’d have to fix that with a bell in the future. For now, though, he turned to see who was trying to get his attention. While he probably should have expected it at some point, he hadn’t planned on having a cop in uniform stop by on his first full day as the owner of this new place.

  “Ramsey, just what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

  Goddammit. He’d dealt with this fucking prick before—just another insecure guy with a miniscule dick taking it out on anyone he could legally. On top of that, this guy had been a senior at Winchester High when Sean had been a freshman—the star quarterback who’d never been told he wasn’t special. “What’s it look like?”

  “It looks like you’re, hmm, I don’t know. Vandalizing, stealing, breaking and entering. How’s that for starters?”

  Keeping his face as unmovable as stone, Sean fought the urge to storm over and get up in this guy’s grill—because it wouldn’t help his cause any. Besides, he had the upper hand. “Maybe you didn’t hear the news, but I own this place now.”

  “Oh, really? This dumb building’s been empty for months and, all of a sudden, you own it?”

  This dumb ass must have been sacked on the football field one too many times back in the day. “Yeah, that’s how it works. You might not remember the previous owner—but he had a small engine repair shop here, and he retired a couple of years ago. Maybe on your drivebys you never noticed the realtor sign on the bay doors?” The cop took a couple steps closer, and Sean was suddenly glad he still had a big wrench in his hand—not that it would do him any good. “I’m guessing maybe that’s why you’ve been passed over for detective, ‘cause you don’t notice shit like that?”

  “Ah, you’re cute, Ramsey. That’s not it at all. I just have a hard time believing you actually bought this place.”

  Man, Sean would love to meet this prick without his uniform in a dark alley or somewhere like it. That was all guys like this had—the power of the law protecting them, making them feel better about themselves. “How about we head into the office? I’m pretty sure the ink’s not even dry on the paperwork.” To make his point, Sean started walking toward the little room closer to the front that he planned to use just as he’d said, as an office. In his old shop, he had a small table tucked in the corner but did most of the paperwork at home. Now he could keep work and his personal life separated.

  Unfortunately, that small room was nothing but boxes at the moment—but to satisfy this asshole, he’d go through everything.

  Provided that huge stack of papers was here at not at home.

  But the cop said, “Nah. I’m sure that kind of paperwork would be easy to imitate. I’ll look through legal channels—and if I don’t like what I see, I’ll be back.”

  Sean fought so fucking hard to keep the sneer off his face, the snarl out of his voice—but he allowed himself to rub the fist of his right hand, still curled around the wrench, with his left. “I’ll look forward to it.” When the asshole turned and walked toward the door, Sean added, “Officer.”

  As he stepped outside, he glared at Sean. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you, Ramsey.”

  “Be my guest.” Through the open doorway, Sean was able to see the guy’s cruiser—reds and blues flashing, of course, because they always loved to make a spectacle when it came to him. Or maybe it was just so they could show the town they were working. But maybe now they’d grow tired of harassing him constantly. Buying a building downtown proved Sean was here to stay—and they’d just have to accept it.

  He waited a minute before stepping over to the door, wanting to make sure the cop left without giving away that he even gave a shit. By the time he opened the door, the cop was turning left, heading toward Main Street.

  Good fucking riddance.

  And, as he returned to putting tools in their new spots, his mind wandered back to the events of the day—which led to him thinking about the one woman he kept returning to, the one he’d pined over for far too long.

  He needed to find his stereo so he could crank some heavy music—but he had no idea what box that shit was in. He did ma
nage to find his black do-rag on the shelf and put it on to keep his longish dark blond hair out of his eyes. While he was searching through boxes, he heard pounding on the front door.

  If it was that fucking cop again…

  But it wasn’t. Nor was it the crazy bitch who kept calling, making the cell phone in his back pocket continue to vibrate off and on. Fortunately, the person at the door was Jesse, his best friend since middle school, a man he’d always thought of as his brother—and even his own mom had treated him like a son. “Jesse, you don’t gotta knock. You just helped me move all this shit in here.”

  “Yeah, but wouldn’t that be rude?”

  “No. This is a business. You don’t knock on the door before you go to Safeway, do you?”

  Jesse’s laugh lit up his brown eyes. “Good luck with that. The door slides open before you even have a chance.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “But I get your point. You don’t knock on the door of the Winchester Café.”

  “Exactly. How’s that going, by the way?”

  “Sucks, bro. If they don’t fire me, I’m gonna quit.”

  “I tried to warn you, man. I’m surprised you’ve lasted as long as you have.”

  With a shrug, Jesse leaned against the counter. “Maybe if they had me cooking or waiting tables—but I never fucking want to look at another dish as long as I live.”

  “No shit. If I could, man, I’d hire you to work for me.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that. But you know I know just enough to be dangerous. I mean, I’ve gotten pretty good at tinkering on my car, but bikes aren’t my thing.”

  “You could learn if you wanted.”

  “Nah. I just need to figure out what I wanna do with my life.” Jesse ran slender fingers through his dark brown hair. “But, hey, you need some help unpacking?”

  “Thanks, man. But Travis is comin’ over later to help.”

  Jesse flashed a big grin. “Well, I gotta head into work anyway. I just wanted to see how things were shaping up here. I can’t wait to see what you do with the place.”

  Shaking his head, Sean let out a chuckle. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m afraid it’s not gonna look much different.”

  Maybe, as he’d suggested, Jesse wouldn’t get his hopes up—but most of Sean’s hopes and dreams were tied up in this little shop, and in spite of the bullshit earlier this morning at home, followed by the asshole cop coming to take a shit on his parade, Sean knew things would keep getting better for him, one day at a time.

  If only he could get his mind off that one girl…

  Chapter Two

  Because the pizza box was too big to fit in the barrel he’d put in a corner of the shop, Sean set it on top, wondering when the trash company would deliver the dumpster. Until then, he’d have to keep the trash inside—but, between Travis and him, that little pie hadn’t stood a chance. In addition to the move yesterday, for all Travis’s hard work today helping him set up shop, lunch was the least Sean could do. And, thanks to his biker friend, he’d be able to officially open up shop tomorrow, sign or no sign.

  Letting out a long breath of air, Sean headed toward the office area where the last of the boxes waited patiently. Just as he got to the doorway, he spotted someone on the other side of the outer door.

  This person was shorter than Jesse or Travis—and, if he wasn’t mistaken, it would be the woman he’d been thinking about all morning. “Come in!” he shouted, wondering why everyone had been hesitating at the door.

  Realizing he needed an Open sign, Sean vowed to swing by the hardware store on the way home tonight. He’d never used one at the old place.

  The door opened, and there she was. Nicki Sosebee, the woman he’d loved since high school. He was pretty sure she’d never known it, though—either that or she just wasn’t interested. They’d been friends since their sophomore year, if he remembered correctly, and it hadn’t taken long for him to fall for her easy laugh and joy for life. Her naïveté. The way she acted like she didn’t give a shit about anything when, clearly, she did. The way she smiled.

  But all through high school, she’d dated a rich kid named Colby or Corey or something. After they’d broken up after graduation, Nicki had convinced Sean to attend Winchester Community College with her. Stupidly, he’d thought maybe then he’d have a chance—until she’d started dating that dumb guy Brent. That motherfucker was quite a bit older than her but she’d thought he was the one—until he cheated on her.

  And that was the catalyst for the moment that Sean had always pigeonholed in his brain with two words: the incident. Because Nicki had called him, bawling her eyes out, telling Sean she’d caught her asshole boyfriend cheating on her, he’d invited her to his place. While holding her in his arms, allowing her to cry all those tears, their lips had locked and they’d wound up in his bed. Finally.

  But the reason why they weren’t together now and why Sean didn’t like thinking about it was because Nicki had actually called him Brent in bed. Even that he could have overlooked—except that Nicki had seemed so devastated over her ex. Sean never wanted to be the rebound guy. He wanted to be her number one, and he’d wait till the end of time for that day.

  Unfortunately, nowadays, he doubted that would ever happen. Nicki had become a player. Nope, not a slut, because Sean refused to think of her in that derogatory way. She’d been disappointed by one boyfriend after another and now she was playing the field—and Sean refused to judge her for it.

  But that torch he carried for her burned brightly.

  “Oh, my God. This place is fucking huge!” she said, walking in, lighting up the entire place with her smile.

  “You saying you like it?”

  “Are you kidding? I love it! I’m so happy for you. I know you worked hard to get here.” She turned around, giving the place another good look, and Sean took that moment to really look at her without her noticing. Her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail so he could see the pale skin of the nape of her neck, and the miniskirt she wore showed off legs that could have belonged to a runner. As she turned back to him, her chocolate eyes sparkled. “I see you’ve been dallying with the competition.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That Pizza Hut box,” she said, pointing toward the trash barrel. Before Sean could put two and two together, she added, “I got the job!”

  “At Napoli?”

  “Yeah! The manager was kind of on the fence about me, because I didn’t have as much food service experience as he was looking for, but I was able to persuade him.”

  “Maybe he hired you just to shut you up.”

  Her eyes still twinkling, Nicki stuck her tongue out at him playfully. “So when are you opening?”

  “The plan is tomorrow. I’ve been letting my customers know I was coming here and I put up a sign in the window at the old place in case somebody didn’t know.”

  “You should call the paper. You know, have somebody do a story about your new location.”

  Sean couldn’t help the smirk he felt forming on his lips. “Yeah, ‘cause everybody in Winchester wants to come to Ramsey’s Motorcycle Repair.”

  “Well, they won’t if they don’t know you exist.”

  “Guys in the motorcycle clubs in town know already—and they don’t read the paper.”

  “Fine. It was just a suggestion.”

  “I appreciate the thought—but I know my customers.”

  “Yeah, I guess you do.” Nicki continued looking around the space, surveying all the work that had been done to get it where it should be. “Do you think you’ll get more business here?”

  “Maybe. I’ll actually be paying higher taxes at this location, but I think it’ll be a good tradeoff. I’ll probably get more visibility here, so yeah. Being here won’t hurt. My main concern, though, was space.”

  “Why? You never seemed cramped in the old garage.”

  Grinning, Sean rubbed his hand on his neck. “I guess I didn’t tell you my plans. I’ve been
wanting to build a custom Harley for a while now and I didn’t have space to do that and work on other bikes at the same time. Here, I’ve got more than enough room.”

  “Holy shit. No kidding. You could even park your truck in here and still be able to work on bikes.”

  “Exactly.”

  As she walked around the space, she continued assessing the shelves before glancing his way again. “Hey, how’s Michelle? I ran into her at the store yesterday, and if I didn’t know better, it seemed like she was intentionally avoiding me.”

  “I might have something to do with that.”

  At first, Nicki tilted her head in confusion, but then her eyes widened. “What the fuck did you tell her, Sean?”

  Unable to help himself, he started laughing. “Cool your jets. It’s not what you think. You’re my friend, so you’re guilty by association.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning she left me this morning.”

  “Yeah, but yesterday—”

  “This kind of shit doesn’t start in a vacuum. She’d been picking little fights and nagging at me for days, and I finally told her last night that she could always leave. So she did.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sean.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not.” In fact, he was only sorry he hadn’t suggested she leave weeks ago. While his ex had been right that maybe he’d been drinking a little too much, he couldn’t help the things he said while he was asleep. And something he wouldn’t tell Nicki was that her name had come out of his mouth a couple of weeks ago—and that was when the fighting with Michelle had become nonstop.

  “Okay. Well, maybe she really was avoiding me yesterday.”

  “I’m sure she was. But good fucking riddance. As it is, I’m gonna have to block her number on my cell, ‘cause now she won’t stop calling. You want something to drink?”

  “What have you got?”

  “Some Pepsi and Mountain Dew that’s getting warmer by the minute. My minifridge broke during the move, so I’ll have to buy a new one—so, for now, I have lukewarm drinks.”