Hacking the Biker's Code

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Hacking the Biker's Code Page 17

by Piper Davenport


  “It was all a trap,” she whispered. “Lila was never pregnant. The shower was all a ruse to get me over there so she could cut him out of my body. But I went into labor and convinced her to let it all happen naturally. She was going to kill me, Zane.”

  I decided not to point out that I had a feeling the cunt was crazy and warned Parker not to leave her mother’s house. That conversation could wait until our son was in the world safely.

  “Okay, baby, I got you,” I said, taking her hand. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

  She burst into tears and squeezed my fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, baby,” I said, pulling into emergency. “Let’s just get you inside.”

  She nodded, and I helped her out of the car, then into the hospital. They rushed her up to labor and delivery where I was made an impotent observer as they hooked her up to monitors, took blood to see what she’d been drugged with, and called a doctor in to deliver the baby.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Cooper Daniel McCormick arrived with a bellow. He was healthy, but obviously not happy to be out in the cold. Our nurse, Shiloh, set him in Parker’s arms, and I finally got eyes on my child.

  He was perfect.

  “Hi there, little Coop,” Parker whispered. “You look just like Daddy.”

  I smiled, leaning down to kiss her, then him. “You did so good, Pebbles.”

  “I’m so tired.”

  I stroked her cheek. “You can sleep, sweetheart.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

  A doctor walked in and spoke to the OB on duty, Dr. Timber, then left the room.

  “You were drugged with ketamine,” Dr. Timber said. “It wasn’t a lot, so you should start feeling like yourself in a few hours. The good thing is you can breastfeed normally. We’ll get you cleaned up and Shiloh can help you get started.”

  Parker burst into tears, and I took Cooper from her, holding him close as I sat at the edge of the mattress. “You’re okay, honey. Cooper and I got you,” I whispered. “Right, Coop? Mama’s protected.”

  She sobbed harder, smiling through her tears. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Pebbles.”

  The next few hours were a flurry of activity. Parker’s parents arrived, her mother apologizing profusely to me for letting her daughter out of her sight. I assured her I was good, even though I was still both freaked and pissed Parker had put herself in danger, and we moved on with our day.

  Jasmine and Willow arrived soon after Parker’s parents, and by the time everyone was ready to leave, Cooper was feeding perfectly, and my woman was finally content.

  There’d been a few minutes of tension when local police had forced their way in to ask Parker a few questions and she’d requested everyone leave the room, including me.

  I refused, therein creating the tension.

  “If you stay, you cannot freak out,” she ordered.

  “I’m not leavin’, Parker, so do your thing.”

  I forced myself not to react as she relayed the story of what happened when she got to Lila’s house, which, in fact, wasn’t actually Lila’s house. She was housesitting for an older couple who was on vacation. I had a feeling they were gonna just love getting home to a crime scene.

  Lila had no family in Savannah. She’d been institutionalized as a child, but got out when she was eighteen and sometimes took her meds, but most of the time, she just let her crazy fly. She’d met Parker several years ago and decided she was gonna be her best friend.

  “How do you know all of this?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even.

  “She was taken to St. Joseph’s and confessed,” the male officer said.

  “So, I didn’t kill her?” Parker rasped.

  “Parker, don’t say another word,” I growled.

  “She’s fine,” the female officer said. “We know it was self-defense. Parker’s not in trouble.” She turned to Parker. “No, you didn’t kill her. She’ll be going to jail for a very long time.”

  A few questions later and the cops finally left. I sat on the edge of the bed and took Parker’s hand.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Yeah. I know you are,” I said. “It’s over, right? We don’t need to revisit this shit, but next time I tell you to stay put, you fuckin’ stay put.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I just gave birth to your gigantic child, maybe take that down a notch.”

  I kissed her palm. “I’m in awe of you, beautiful, but if you ever do something like that again, I’m gonna totally lose my shit. This is me takin’ it down a notch.”

  She sighed. “Fair enough. I’ll stay put next time.”

  I smiled, leaning down to kiss her. “Thank you for pushing our gigantic child out of your body.”

  She stroked my face. “You’re welcome. We’re gonna need a bigger house.”

  “We are,” I agreed.

  “Can we start looking next week?”

  “As soon as you’re back on your feet, we definitely can.”

  Parker smiled. “Okay.”

  “Cooper’s asleep, baby. You should too.”

  She scooted over and patted the mattress. “Join me.”

  I grinned, climbing into bed with her and pulling her against me.

  “I love you, Zane.”

  “Love you, too, baby.”

  I held her close, feeling her heartbeat against my chest, knowing she was safe, and all was right with the world.

  Parker

  Eight months later...

  I carried Cooper into the barn and Lyric rushed over for a snuggle. “Oh my god, you look amazing, honey,” she crooned, hugging me.

  “Thanks,” I said, my hands on my ever-expanding belly. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to breastfeed while pregnant?”

  I’d found out I was pregnant when Cooper was about ten weeks old. This one was going easier than the first, and we were having another boy. Rabbit was over the moon.

  “No,” she said. “And I don’t plan to find out.”

  I chuckled. “Smart woman.”

  “Babe, sit down,” Rabbit ordered, walking in, his arms laden with all manner of baby shit.

  “Honey, I’m fine,” I said, but he dropped his burdens and practically carried me to the couch. Lyric had Cooper in her arms, so I gladly took a seat and let my body relax for a bit.

  Rabbit grinned, leaning down to kiss me. “Water?”

  “Yeah, honey, that’d be great, thank you.”

  He grabbed me a bottled water and handed it to me before hauling all our stuff upstairs. I’d insisted on buying another bassinet for the barn, along with a pack-n-play. We’d also brought a few changes of clothes, toys, and diapers.

  So much had happened in the last six months, it was nice to have things settle for a bit.

  Lila had pleaded not guilty, so I had to testify at her trial. In the end, she was found guilty and committed to a prison psychiatric hospital for the rest of her natural life. This outcome made things much calmer for me. At least in my head. She couldn’t get to me where she was going and that had helped ease my PTSD.

  Rabbit no longer worked at the shops with Alamo and Doom full time. He was my equal partner in both flower shops and worked beside me most days, filling in with Doom or Alamo when they needed him.

  Stevie was rocking the new store and she finally agreed to buy into a partnership, so she owned twenty-five percent of her store. She’d already proven herself to be invaluable, but now she got to benefit from her loyalty, and her store was doing double the business of mine, so we were all benefitting financially.

  Rabbit and I had found a gorgeous home close to Doom and Lyric. Not quite as fancy or old, a block away from their historical home, but it was big, four bedrooms, five bathrooms, plus bonus, and a daylight basement. It had been built in the 80s and totally gutted and remodeled three years ago. Doom’s dad was an expert in all things construction, owning his own home restoration company, and he’d done a w
alk through then met with the inspector on our behalf and deemed the house a steal, so we jumped on it. We’d moved in three months ago and I loved it.

  Taxi and Rabbit were working peacefully so far. Rabbit was still pretty tight-lipped about things, but was much better about communicating when he had to do something that might be a little dangerous. Those times meant Mouse or Shadow was hanging out at our place until Rabbit was home safe and sound. I’d been informed that Taxi and the powers that be had offered immunity to the club for any past ‘sins’ that might be uncovered during their work together. This was apparently the only reason Doc would allow Rabbit to do anything with Taxi, and the immunity trickled down to other clubs in the area as well.

  My parents were stellar grandparents...no surprise there. They were always up to babysit, and between them and the club, we didn’t have to sort out daycare. We had a few great girls who watched our kids during the day, so much so, the club decided to register the daycare officially, even though only club kids would be in attendance.

  Jasmine had given birth to a darling little girl, Chance, three months before Cooper, and the babies were already thick as thieves. All our kids played well together, actually, and since the pack was growing in leaps and bounds, it was good they all got along so well.

  “Bassinet is set up in our room,” Rabbit said, flopping down beside me. “I changed the sheets in the Pack-n-Play, and Coop’s clothes are in the bottom drawer of the dresser.”

  I grinned, leaning over to kiss him gently. “My hero. Thank you.”

  Cooper must have heard his daddy, because he let out a scream and tried to pitch himself out of Lyric’s arms. Rabbit caught him, holding him close.

  “He might be hungry,” I said.

  “Bottle or tit?” Rabbit asked.

  “I will see if he’ll take the breast,” I said, and held my hands out to him. “I’d rather my child not learn ‘tit’ so early in his life.”

  Rabbit grinned, handing him to me, then covering me with a blanket for modesty. I was all about a woman’s right to feed her child anywhere, anytime, but would never feel comfortable just whipping my boob out in public, so always brought a blanket with us.

  As I fed our child, I watched our family arrive in stages of chaos, depending on how many kids they brought with them. Rabbit stayed put, so I leaned my head against his shoulder and he kissed me again.

  “Love you, Pebbles.”

  “Love you, too, Rabbit.”

  This life was an incredible ride.

  Unedited excerpt copyright ©2020 Trixie Publishing, Inc.

  Otter

  It was supposed to be an easy job. Fast money with no complications. Then she showed up and changed the game. Now I have to decide whether to hold my cards close to the cut, or go all in and risk losing everything.

  Shiloh

  I am the lucky bearer of one dumbass older brother who fancies himself a high-roller. I should disown him, but he’s my only family, and when he’s not on a losing streak, he’s pretty decent. But now, he’s dragged me into a world I have no business being a part of, and I see no way out.

  But then Otter steps to the table and I must decide if I cash out or ante up.

  Otter

  I had just lit the torch and lowered my mask when my president yelled my name. I frowned, shutting everything off and raising my mask. “Yeah?”

  “Jordy’s runnin’ a game tonight. He asked if you’d work it.”

  I sighed. I was in the middle of a sculpture that I was actually loving. It had been a long time since I’d created something for myself. I had a long list of client requests, but I’d been inspired last week and ran with it.

  “I’m in the middle of somethin’, Doc. Can he find someone else?”

  “He’s offerin’ you fifty-grand and give the club ten.”

  “Jesus, high rollers?”

  Doc nodded. “Sounds like it. He wants your expertise as much as your brawn, I think.”

  I had been raised in Vegas by a family of card sharks. I’d learned to count cards before I learned to count to ten, and if I wanted to live a life of poker games and pussy, I’d make millions.

  But I didn’t.

  I’d visited Savannah over ten years ago and didn’t leave. I’d fallen in love with the southern hospitality and chose Harleys instead of cards, of course, never foregoing the pussy.

  “What time does he need me there?”

  “Nine.”

  That gave me two hours to work, and an hour to clean up and get to the game. “Yeah, tell him I’ll do it.”

  “Thanks, brother.”

  I nodded, lowering my mask and relighting my torch.

  * * *

  Pulling up to the private parking lot under the building, I backed my bike into a spot, then pulled my suit jacket from my saddlebag. Replacing my club leather for Armani, I slid my phone and keys into my pocket and headed inside.

  Upstairs, Blurr was booming. I doubted the nightclub patrons had any idea there was illegal gambling happening below them, but Jordy kept a tight lid on both clubs. There were two floors separating the gambling from the dancing and the games were locked down tight.

  A bouncer I didn’t recognize stood outside the entrance to the games. Other than the burly man guarding the door, you would think it was a door to a utility closet.

  “No entry,” the man said.

  “Easton Ottenheimer,” I replied. “Jordy’s expectin’ me.”

  My birth name was foreign on my tongue, considering I had gone by Otter for more than ten years.

  “Right. I’m Vinnie.”

  I gave him a chin lift and walked through the door. The hallway was lit with one red lightbulb and I continued straight, entering the code on the panel on the wall, then a secret door slid open, allowing me into the room. Tonight’s set-up included roulette, blackjack, and four coveted poker tables with a hundred-grand buy-in per game.

  “Otter!” Jordy greeted me with a huge grin on his face. “I’m so glad you could come.”

  “I bet.” I smirked. “Big spenders tonight, I heard.”

  He grinned. “One hundred grand buy-in, plus twenty-grand just to get a seat at the table.”

  “Who’s at the table?”

  “Atticus Adler and Buford Davis.”

  “Are you fuckin’ high?” I ground out. “Do you really wanna get into bed with the Dixie Mafia, Jordy?”

  One of the worst things about the Dixie Mafia was that they weren’t organized or loyal to anyone, which meant they didn’t have a moral code. No honor among thieves type thing. There was no honor, period.

  “I’m not gettin’ into bed.” He grinned. “It’s just a little over the clothes heavy petting.”

  “Jesus,” I hissed. “You’re a fuckin’ mad man.”

  He laughed. “I’m a rich fuckin’ mad man.”

  “Hey, Dad,” a young man greeted, virtually bounded into the room. “Are Beau and I in?”

  “Haven’t got the final count.”

  “But we’re ready,” he whined.

  “Tuck, you’re being rude. Meet Easton,” Jordy said. “Easton, my son, Tuck.”

  I gave the kid a chin lift. ‘Kid’ probably wasn’t entirely accurate, because he wasn’t much younger than me, but he seemed entitled and immature.

  “Nice to meet you,” Tuck said, then turned back to his father. “How long until we know?”

  “An hour.”

  He huffed. Like a fuckin’ four-year-old. I had to look away.

  “Fine,” Tuck said, and stomped out of the room.

  “Sorry about that,” Jordy said. “The boy is almost thirty and thinks he’s due everything. His mama’s influence.”

  I highly doubted his mother created that mess, but I kept that opinion to myself.

  “Let me give you a rundown of the players and their known traits.

  I nodded and we spent the next hour mapping out the room, figuring out the best seating arrangement, making sure to accommodate Atticus and Buford’s need to be
close to the bar.

  “I think we’re ready,” Jordy said. “I’ll let Tuck know he and his friend are in and we’ll open the door.”

  I nodded, taking a minute to scan the room, get to know the servers and bartenders, and then I stood against the wall by the entrance and took stock of every person who walked in. They all had their buy-in and their cover charge, which were counted and verified by three bouncers.

  Everyone had followed the rules, so Jordy deemed the games open and the men took their seats, while some of the women they’d brought as dates played roulette or blackjack.

  For the next hour, I walked the room, watching quietly, but noticing Tuck and Beau were up to something, I decided to hover by their table. The little shits were cheating. Not only counting cards but signaling to each other. I didn’t know what they were signaling, but it was neither subtle nor smart.

  I caught Jordy’s eye and signaled for him to meet me in the back. We walked back separately in an effort not to raise suspicions, and I closed the door behind us. “Tuck and his buddy are countin’ cards.”

  “My son doesn’t cheat.”

  “Well, I’m telling you he and his friend are. What you want to do with that information is up to you, but you better hope no one else notices.”

  A rather feral scream indicated I’d spoken too soon.

  Rushing back into the room, Jordy and I arrived to find Tuck seated in his chair, a knife handle sticking out of his thigh. I didn’t know how long the blade was, considering you couldn’t see any of it.

  “Dad!” he screamed.

  “This bastard is cheating,” the man with the knife accused. I believe his name was Bobby Joe Waller and he appeared not only did he have the ability to use a knife, but also how to hide it from security.

  “My leg!” Tuck squealed, grabbing the handle.

  “Don’t fuckin’ touch that and don’t move,” I warned. “You’ll make it worse.”

  “How the fuck did you get a knife in here?” Jordy demanded

  I saw Beau stand slowly and attempt to sidle out of the room, but a bouncer shook his head, removed his gun from his holster, and pointed it at Beau. “I don’t think so.”

  “If anyone was cheating, it was him,” Jordy accused. “Take care of him.”

 

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