Rough Ride: A Chaos Novella

by Kristen Ashley

  Snapper Kavanaugh and Rosalie Holloway were about a little carriage house tucked far back from a city street, in our little Eden, insulated and isolated from the outside.

  Perfect for Snap.

  And as with everything I had with Snap, perfect for me.

  * * * *

  I was getting ready for my shift, still bartending, but I’d be on the floor starting the next week.

  I was looking forward to hitting the floor because I got paid more for bartending in the paycheck department, but I could earn a mean tip, and if I was ever going to give Snapper his reading nook and myself some garden furniture, I had to be making a lot more than I was right then making.

  So I was stroking on mascara, oblivious to the fact all the discoloration and bruising was long gone. My nose was back to normal. There was a split in my eyebrow, that break and the line that created it was still pinkish, but it was lessening.

  None of this factored for me.

  I was just putting on mascara.

  And that was when the phone rang.

  The screen came up with a number not known to me and I didn’t know what drove me to answer it. I never answered calls that I didn’t know the caller because in most cases, they were marketing calls and no one liked the aggravation of marketing calls.

  But I answered the phone.

  And it would take a great deal of time for me to make the decision if I was glad I did, or wished I hadn’t.

  “Hello?” I greeted.

  “Rose, it’s me.”

  My head dropped and I looked at the basin.

  Beck.

  I said nothing.

  “I don’t got a lot of time. We don’t get a lot of phone calls and there’s a line behind me and they aren’t real patient.”

  “Beck—”

  “I seriously fucked up and I know it.”

  God.

  He so did.

  But it was also so over so it didn’t matter.

  “Beck—”

  “Turned my stomach, layin’ hands on you. Almost got sick, watchin’ the boys go at you. Thought it was Cage you were doin’ it for and that was the only reason I got that fire in my belly, thinkin’ all we had was a lie and all the time we had together, your heart was with him. Still, shoulda never took it there. Never put my hands on a woman like that. Never thought I could be a man who would do that to a woman. Especially not the woman who meant somethin’ to me. Lay in this joint every night, not sleepin’, can’t get that shit outta my head, what I did to you. What I let them do to you. Even during the day, if I don’t fight it back, it gets stuck in my throat so bad, I can’t breathe.”

  There was something there that he gave me, knowing this. Knowing I had not made an entirely stupid-ass decision letting him into my life and heart.

  It still didn’t matter.

  “Okay, but Beck—”

  “I love you.”

  Oh no.

  “Beck,” I whispered.

  “And I’m sorry.”

  That had my head snapping up and I stared at the mirror unseeing, all his words during this phone conversation spiking through me.

  “Beck—” I began urgently.

  “Find a good one next time, baby,” he whispered, and now his words sent a chill through me.

  “Beck!” I cried.

  But he was gone.

  I fumbled the phone, managing somehow to call Snapper.

  It rang only twice when he answered, “Yo, Scully.”

  “Beck just called,” I rushed out.

  “Say again?” he asked, not sounding happy.

  “I think from jail,” I told him.

  “Jesus Christ,” he bit.

  “No, Snap, he’s done something or he’s going to be doing something.”

  “Honey, I told you that—” he began.

  “No, no, no!” I cut him off frantically. “He said he loved me and he was sorry and he told me to find a good one and then he hung up on me.”

  Snapper was silent.

  Totally.

  Just what I thought.

  Damn it!

  “Snapper!” I cried.

  “Let me make some calls,” he said.

  “He’s gonna rat,” I declared.

  “Keep calm, Rosie, and let me make some calls.”

  “It’s okay for me to do it, I mean, not okay as we learned all too well, but it is not okay for a brother to rat, Snapper.”

  “Rosie, honey, let me go so I can make some calls.”

  “He’ll be dead in a week.”

  “Baby, letting you go now.”

  “Get word to him. Tell him not to do it. Tell him I told him not to do it.”

  “Okay.”

  “This isn’t about him,” I said hurriedly. “It is, but it isn’t. In the world we live in, he can’t right the wrong he did me unless he lets justice serve. But not this way, Snap. Not this way.”

  “I hear you, Rosie,” he said gently. “Now I gotta let you go, baby.”

  “Okay, Snap.”

  “Call when I know something,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “Love you,” he finished.

  “Love you too,” I replied.

  He disconnected and I found it difficult to focus on mascara.

  “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul,” I whispered to my reflection, trying to get a hold on the panic. It just didn’t work when I concluded, “The problem is, so is he.”

  * * * *

  I pretty much barreled down the drive at eleven-oh-seven that night, coming home after my shift, touching the garage door opener and making the swing into the garage.

  And Snapper did not stay laid out on the couch with his book, only to look over the top of it when I hit the living room and give me warm, happy-you’re-home, now-get-over-here-and-cuddle-with-me eyes.

  I hadn’t even pulled into the garage (next to his truck, by the way, he now had the second remote) when I saw him in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” I chanted.

  I couldn’t have my phone on me at work but I’d checked it during a break and I had a message from Snap saying he was still looking into things. But when I’d gone to get my purse after shift was over, I had another message from Snap saying, “I got the details, baby. Don’t think about it. It might not be as bad as you think. I’ll share when you get home.”

  I did not drive home like the devil was on my heels because first, Snapper was there and it was worth getting home healthy and all in one piece, and second, I was not a big fan of drivers who drove like wherever they were going was more important than anything else happening on the planet, so I refused to be one of those kinds of people.

  Nevertheless, I didn’t dawdle.

  After I parked, I grabbed my purse and hurried out of my car, not liking that Snapper was in the kitchen doorway waiting for me.

  He’d said it might not be as bad as I think.

  Him standing in the doorway made me think it was worse than I thought.

  “Hey,” I called, slamming my car door.

  “Hey, darlin’,” he called back.

  I rounded the hood of my car. “Why are you waiting in the doorway?”

  “Because I’m worried about your frame of mind,” he told me.

  “My frame of mind was controlled until I saw you standing in the doorway.”

  His lips quirked and that finally set my mind at ease.

  He got out of the way in order for me to be able to get inside, but also for him to be able to walk to the fridge to grab me a beer. He didn’t even offer tea.

  He also didn’t give me a welcome home kiss.

  This was bigger than tea, which was bad.

  But Snap meeting me at the door and not giving me a kiss?

  Okay, now my mind was no longer at ease.

  He uncapped a Fat Tire for him, a Blue Moon for me, handed me mine, and then he leaned a hip against the countertop.

  I didn’t take a pull of my brew.

&
nbsp; I looked into his eyes.

  “Talk to me,” I demanded.

  “Took me a while to get it because it isn’t intel the cops want out there, but I got it. Throttle turned.”

  “He what?”

  “Turned. Switched sides. He’s now a CI.”

  Oh my God.

  I watched TV. I knew what that meant.

  “A confidential informant?” I asked to confirm.

  “Yeah. Keepin’ him on the inside, they’re gonna find some loophole or technicality to let his ass go. He returns to what’s left of Bounty. Bounty, from all reports, regardless that shit has already got their ass in a sling and their charter is in danger of getting yanked because of it, is returning to working whatever they’re working, including Valenzuela. Since that’s apparently gonna happen inevitably, while it happens, Throttle digs as deep as he can get and he gives them everything he’s finding.”

  “Holy crap,” I whispered.

  Snapper nodded. “It’s dangerous as fuck. And baby, warning, the degrees a snitch can be a snitch are many, none of them popular, and that’s the highest degree you can get. If he’s about atoning, that motherfucker is all in.”

  That was when I took a pull from my brew.

  A long one.

  “He also promised to keep Bounty off you.”

  I nearly choked on Blue Moon.

  I swallowed with difficulty and Snap kept going.

  “It’s covered, as I explained, but he’s added insurance. And, babe, before you let this sink in too deep and it messes with your head, there is no doubt from that phone call he’s doin’ this for you, but he’s also getting immunity and if the shit he gets on Valenzuela is good enough, WITSEC.”

  “Witness protection?” I breathed.

  Snap nodded. “Valenzuela is not only a big fish, he’s linked to bigger fish. This operation could go on months, maybe longer, and crack a lot of shit wide open. Throttle offers up something juicy, he’ll have to testify against them, and he’ll get protection.”

  “How protective is witness protection?” I inquired and Snap grinned.

  “I read a lot, Rosie, but not sure I’ve read any stats on how many bad guys turned snitch got hunted down for vengeance. Though, I know they don’t offer that shit random and definitely not generously. If they give it, they intend for it to do what it’s supposed to do. So he’ll slide right off the grid in a way it’ll take some doing for anyone to find him.”

  I drew in a big breath, then let it out.

  “You need to know something.”

  The way Snapper said that didn’t do anything to my finally calming frame of mind.

  “What?” I asked.

  “This was our plan all along.”

  I stared at him.

  “Chaos wanted him to turn,” he explained.

  Oh God.

  “You knew that?” I queried.

  Slowly, he nodded.

  “You told me that it was about shutting down the shipments,” I reminded him. “Messing with Valenzuela’s distribution. Showing Bounty the worst of it and pulling them back to the right side.”

  “Rosie, baby, if you’ll remember, I did share that we wanted those boys in the joint so pressure could be put on them to do the right thing, and having one of Bounty turn and work with the cops would definitely be the right thing. That said, Tack always wanted more pressure put on Throttle because he figured the man would do what he could to keep you, absolutely keep close to you and not take semi-permanent residence in the clink. He just needed the right incentive to get his head out of his ass and do it. Obviously, all this was supposed to go down without Throttle knowing you helped put his ass in a cell. But that was our ultimate goal.”

  I turned my head to look out the window but didn’t see anything, considering I was taking another deep pull of my beer and not liking the thoughts barreling in my brain.

  “Rosie,” he called, his tone searching and sweet.

  I returned my attention to him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because that was Chaos’s goal. My goal was for you to realize he was an asshole and dump him so I could have a clear go.”

  It took a second for his words to hit me.

  And when they did I nearly busted out laughing.

  I managed not to do that but I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

  Snap smiled back, so Snapper, not hiding from me he was relieved.

  Or how deeply.

  But his smile didn’t last long.

  “Valenzuela has disappeared,” he announced.

  I’d been about to take another fortifying slug from my beer, but what he said made me stop.

  “What?”

  “No one has seen him in weeks. Weeks that are now becoming months.”

  “Whoa,” I whispered.

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “We have no fuckin’ clue,” he answered.

  “Are you thinking things are better or worse without him?”

  “I’m thinking things are uncertain without him. They weren’t entirely certain with him, the man is messed right the fuck up. There was always no telling what he would do, just that whatever he did would be what we know of him. Messed right the fuck up. But at least he was visible, around, and although his operation is tight and him being around didn’t give us dick, something is better than nothing. Him disappearing off the planet is just nothing, and nothing in this situation is not good. Uncertain nothing is definitely not any better.”

  “That doesn’t sound real great,” I noted in an understatement.

  “It isn’t,” Snap unnecessarily agreed. “But even so, him bein’ gone does not mean his operations have ceased. His crew is still at it like he was in the driver’s seat, full bore.”

  “Do you know what that means?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Either he’s callin’ the shots remotely, or he’s put someone in charge. We don’t got much of a handle on it, neither do the cops, and that’s making everyone twitchy.”

  I was feeling twitchy right along with them and I didn’t really understand what was happening.

  It struck me belatedly he was sharing this with me.

  And cautiously, I brought that to his attention. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about this kind of thing.”

  “Well, I’m deep in this and your ex is now deeper in this. Not to mention, I had to come clean about what the Club was up to with your ex and I didn’t know how you’d respond to that.” He grinned. “So although I’m not gonna give you daily status reports, I never intended to keep you fully in the dark, so here’s where we are now. Me, Chaos…and Throttle.”

  My Snapper was so awesome.

  “Thank you, Snapper,” I said softly.

  “Don’t mention it, Rosie,” he replied.

  “Though I think it’s relatively weird I’m thanking you for not keeping me fully in the dark about a drug dealing, woman pimping, gun running, pornographic movie producing bad guy and my ex, who beat the snot out of me with his brothers, who now is putting his ass on the line for immunity and atonement, something your brothers essentially set him up to do.”

  His grin spread into a smile. “Yeah, baby. Now we know precisely how nice it is to have our little cloud of sweetness in the sea of all that crazy.”

  Oh man, did I know what he meant.

  And I loved it that he felt like he was right there with me.

  Cloud of sweetness.

  That was almost better than Eden.

  But Eden was paradise so I was going to stick with that.

  “Yeah,” I replied and then took a pull from my beer.

  When I finished, Snap asked, “You good?”

  I nodded.

  He studied me. “You sure?”

  I nodded again.

  He inched nearer to me, reaching out a hand to tag the side belt loop on my jeans and pull me a lot closer to him.

  Our bodies were inches away when he noted,
“Rosie, you kind of freaked.”

  I was worried he’d worry about that. It wasn’t done for a woman to get twisted up like that for an ex, and the road to our cloud of sweetness had been a pretty rough ride.

  “Snap, I have no problem with him paying for what he did to me. But the punishment for that is not him getting shivved.”

  He started chuckling and through it muttered, “My Rosie sayin’ ‘shivved.’ Too fucking cute.”

  I leaned into him, resting my weight on his body, smiling up at his handsome face. “I’m glad you think it’s cute. But still, I don’t want him shivved. And to come clean to you, he does good with this, my opinion is, he’s atoned. And I hope that WITSEC is better than all those shows that have the mafia guys finding their prey and making them run for their lives.”

  There was a loaded moment of hesitation before Snapper replied, “Yeah, that guy was a massive dick and a serious moron, but can’t help, he puts his ass out like this, to hope for that too.” He ran an arm along my waist and pulled me closer, sadly saying, “Since we’re into the heavy, might as well get it all out there.”

  Oh man.

  “What?” I asked.

  He didn’t make me wait, and fortunately, it wasn’t as heavy as he thought.

  Then again, with the heavy we’d been talking about, it didn’t get a lot heavier.

  “Speck wants a word,” he shared. “He was on you when you got taken and he feels shit how things went down with you. I’ve been holdin’ him back because he was not my favorite person and I didn’t want him anywhere near you. But things have settled, you’re good, I need to let that go and he needs to say his piece so he can get that weight off.”

  “It wasn’t his fault.”

  “He needs to say his piece.”

  “Okay, maybe we should have him over for dinner on one of my nights off.”

  “He doesn’t need to say that much of a piece.”

  I started laughing.

  Oh yeah.

  Snap loved our little cloud as much as I did.

  “Right, then we’ll meet him for a drink or something.”

  “That’ll work,” he muttered.

  “Is that it?” I asked.

  “No,” he answered.

  Man!

  I’d had a tough evening, on my feet making drinks, worried about Beck, now all was good (or goodish) I just wanted to finish my beer, make love to my guy, and go to sleep.