by Debra Kayn
"I'll let Curley know. I'm sure Tarkio can protect her until we see what the police will do," said Kent.
Callie breathed heavily. He studied her face. There was something electrifying in her eyes. She finally understood how dangerous Josh was, and yet there were hope and validation in her gaze and in her voice.
He kissed her hard. She would need that confidence for what he planned to do.
A knock came, and the door opened. He refused to let go of Callie and lifted his chin at Curley.
He sat on the bed beside Callie as she and Linda filled Curley in on everything. There was not much to say while the women rearranged the puzzle pieces and made sense of the madness Josh Hill created in their lives. He had already made his choice on what he was going to do.
Curley glanced at him. With one look, he knew the Tarkio member had his own thoughts about how Josh's crimes should be handled, and they were in agreement.
They weren't going to involve the police.
Chapter 37
Callie
"YOU'RE OUT OF YOUR mind." Callie stood in front of the door, barring Kent from leaving the house. "I don't want you handling the situation. If you don't think anyone at the insurance company can help me prove that Josh set the gas station on fire, then I'll go to the police."
"Damnit, Callie." Kent zipped up his leather jacket. "We've gone over how the police are not going to investigate the Hill family. You heard Curley. They dropped the ball going after your ex-husband with what Linda reported. The second the cops hear your story, no matter if Linda backs you up, they'll ignore everything you have to say because Josh has ruined your reputation. They'll believe you're making everything up to get back at him."
"But, he can't do that. I'm not who he says I am to everyone." Her voice shook, and she hated that her ex-husband still had more control over others than she could earn at face value.
"It's not right, but that's reality. His dad is the mayor. He has the police in his back pocket." He leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. "Now, let Roddy and Paco in so they can stay here with you. We've only got an hour until Josh opens the building up. When I get back, Josh will be out of your life."
"I'm scared." She clutched his jacket. "I don't want anything to happen to you, or have you get arrested."
"Honey, you were only a stop on the road the day I saw you for the first time. Look how that turned out. I think I've shown you that I'm not going anywhere, including prison. There's no way I'd lose you."
A knock at the door startled her. He kissed her. "Everything will be okay."
She sighed and stepped away from the door. The unknown scared the shit out of her. She'd lost everyone in her life, and the thought of something happening to Kent would be her breaking point.
There was something about loving someone—true love, deep love, mature love, that made her want to cling to him and never let him out of her sight. It was the thought of never having him near, never touching him, never hearing his gruff voice, and always knowing he loved her, regardless if he was at work or on his bike or with the Tarkio members, that made her heart ache at the thought of losing him.
It made her accept his choices, even when she believed there was another way to handle things.
At the rumble of the motorcycles starting, she escaped to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Kent should only be gone an hour.
She could hold on that long. She must.
Chapter 38
Kent
OUTSIDE THE SWINGERS' nightclub, Kent opened the bag on the back of his Harley and removed the pistol. While he carried a knife in his boot or on his hip during the day, he was never without a more powerful weapon at night. Being on the road and camping out in the open required some form of protection from animals and people.
"Running him out of town isn't going to work." Priest brought out the sawed-off shotgun from his duffle.
During the hour meeting, hashing over the dynamics of what needed to be done with the Tarkio members, he'd received a quick education on how the motorcycle club handled their problems. He couldn't say he disagreed with their choices. Putting Josh Hill in prison would cause a backlash through the community, and the one who would suffer would be Callie.
He wanted to end everything right now. Tonight.
"Once we have him, I want you to take off, Calder." Priest swung his gaze to the left. "Curley, you make sure he's gone when it's time."
Kent also understood that he was to have no knowledge of what happened to Hill after he left. A fact that sat wrong with him. But until he gave his intentions toward Tarkio and slapped on a patch, the activities tonight weren't any of his business.
He was here to make sure Callie remained safe and get her life back for her.
"I'm getting what I came here for." He slipped his pistol into the back of his jeans. "Nobody is going to stop me."
"As long as we're in and out before business opens for the night. You can do whatever the hell you want with Hill." Priest put two shells in the shotgun.
"Has anyone verified that Hill is still inside?" asked Curley.
"Yeah, he's there." Razor stepped forward. "Let's get this done."
Priest ordered the others to stay outside. Kent led the way inside the unlocked door, backed by Priest, Curley, and Razor.
The air reeked inside the building of booze and sex. The main room was smaller than the building indicated. He headed toward the back where he'd learned the rooms for hookups were located. He suspected Josh would be somewhere, prepping for the opening.
"To your left," whispered Curley.
He gripped the handle of his pistol and put it by his side. Outside the open door, he pulled back the cocking mechanism and stepped into the doorway.
Josh Hill raised his gaze from the desk. He was alone.
Kent stepped closer, spotting Hill lowering his hand below the surface of the desk. He aimed at Hill's face. "Don't move."
"This is a private club, gentlemen." Hill set his hands on the surface, looked at the Tarkio members behind Kent, and said, "I'm sure you understand the rules, seeing as you're all wearing a vest and riding under the same name. I'll have to ask you all to leave."
Not a good time for Hill to fall back on being polite, Kent stepped over to the phone on the corner of the desk and shoved it toward Callie's ex-husband.
"We've got some business to take care of first," said Kent.
With his free hand, Kent removed the piece of paper from his pocket that Callie had given him with her insurance agent's name and phone number written on it. "You have two choices. You can dial that number and explain how you've made a grave error, and Callie Moore had paid her premium on the insurance for the gas station and her mobile home and should never have had a lapse in coverage. You can explain how they can find the money to cover her bill and make it right."
Hill laughed nervously. "What's my other choice?"
"I put a bullet in your head," said Kent.
Hill never looked at the others, only stared at Kent as if he had no concerns about them barging into his office. Kent's trigger finger itched to wipe off the cocky expression on Hill's face. Cocky motherfucker. Nobody was untouchable.
"You must be the latest man spending time between Callie's legs. The gas pump worker, right?" Hill laughed, shaking his head. "You might want to rethink playing the hero this week. She'll have a new man before you know it. Tomorrow, she could have some other guy willing to rush forward and rescue her. How does it feel to be one of the many who've had that bitch?"
"Pick up the phone," he said.
His time for fucking around was over. Josh Hill had ruined Callie's reputation and her livelihood and stolen the pleasure she deserved.
"I don't think so." Hill flicked the piece of paper off the desk.
Without moving the pistol aimed at Hill, Kent grabbed the knife at his hip and brought the blade down, piercing through Hill's hand and nailing him to the wooden desk.
Hill's scream filled the room. Tensi
on from the bikers pressed against his back. He leaned forward, waiting for the cries of agony to lessen. The source of the rumors surrounding Callie would end now. What rightfully belonged to her would be returned.
Dialing all but the last number, Kent held the receiver up to Hill's ear and stuck the end of the pistol barrel against the man's temple. "Dial five, and the call will go straight to Stephanie at Mountain Peak Insurance. Try to sound convincing or I'll blow your brains out."
"My hand." Hill groaned. "Help me."
"Help yourself." He paused. "You've got five seconds to make the call."
"One."
"Two."
Hill whined, muttering to himself.
"Three."
He never took his eyes off Hill. "Four."
"Okay. Okay." Hill hissed through his teeth in pain, reaching out with his uninjured hand and dialing the last number.
"Make it good. If she questions you or you raise her suspicion...boom," whispered Kent.
"Hello, Stephanie?" Hill grimaced, holding his breath. "It's Josh Hill."
Unable to hear the other side of the conversation, Kent could only guarantee that the call went to the insurance agent's desk ten minutes before closing for the day.
"I was going through some paperwork earlier and noticed a mistake." Hill groaned in pain and ended it abruptly as Kent pressed the pistol harder against his head. "It's my mistake. Callie Moore came in and paid her insurance premium back in...uh..."
Kent got in his face, pushing him through the phone call.
"Yes, yes, that's right. Her premium was due in March, but she didn't miss the payment. I was working that day and she gave me cash to pay the bill. You know how it is with me and my ex, and yeah...I didn't send in the money. It slipped my mind."
Sweat rolled down Hill's pale face. "Yes, that's right. I acted as the underwriter, overstepping your duty to your client. I need you to have Mountain Peak write a check out immediately and for you to contact the insurance company. There will be repercussions because of the matter of, uh, the fire that happened in April. Make sure everyone knows, I've taken responsibility, and Mountain Peak will take care of all expenses and paperwork to fix the error."
Several seconds passed. Kent watched Hill, making sure the asshole wouldn't pass out before he finished the call.
"I don't care if they argue technicalities," yelled Hill, becoming agitated. "One way or another, I'm authorizing Mountain Peak to pay Callie Moore the amount she was insured for. If we have to pay the damn thing, have my dad transfer the money and write her a damn check."
Kent slid the barrel of the pistol down Hill's face to underneath his jaw. The call was taking too long. All he could do was hope it was enough.
He took the receiver away from Hill, hung up the phone, and lowered his arm, sliding the pistol underneath his belt. There were no last words, no threats, no harassment from him. He trusted Tarkio Motorcycle Club to finish Josh Hill properly, guaranteeing he'd never utter Callie's name again.
He gripped the handle of his knife. Hill screamed out in pain, flinging his upper body against the chair back. Kent rocked the blade back and forth, damaging more of Hill's hand until it let loose from the desk. Then, he slowly slid the steel out of Hill's hand, in slow, excruciating centimeters.
Turning around while Hill wailed behind him, he looked to Priest and nodded. "I'm done."
Carrying the bloody knife through the building, he exited the door. Curley met him, took one look at the weapon in Kent's hand, and handed him an old rag. He cleaned the knife and slid it back in the holder attached to his belt.
Curley took the rag from him and shoved it in his back pocket. "I'll get rid of this later."
"Appreciate it." He sat his bike and started the engine.
As he planned beforehand, he rode toward the clubhouse. Callie was safe with Tarkio members watching out for her at home. He needed a few minutes to straighten his head, have a couple of shots, and then he'd return to her.
And, she'd never know how her problems were fixed, her rumors were stopped, and her reputation restored.
Epilogue
Kent
CALLIE WALKED OVER and talked with the contractor she'd hired to rebuild the gas station. Kent capped the spray can in his hand and stepped out of the area he'd marked off for when the planning supervisor came over to post the construction permit for their new home.
While keeping with her dad's view of having a convenience store plus gas station, Callie had wanted to build a stick house further back on the property than where the mobile home had sat. He liked the changes and looked forward to seeing the improvements over the next several months.
It'd taken six months from the day he'd demanded Hill fix the crime he'd committed against Callie, and she received a rather inflated insurance payout from the fire. By then, he'd already married her at the courthouse.
She viewed the payoff as a wonderful blessing and had no idea her dad had insured the business and the mobile home for much more than they were worth when she got the check in the mail.
He looked at the check as a payment for what was owed to her. Something she deserved.
For now, he continued to work for Rocky Electrical Company, and Callie worked at Bragley's Music and More. They were going to wait until Moore's Gas Station, in honor of her dad, was up and running before she quit and focused entirely on her business. Then, he would wait three months after opening before he quit his day job. By then, they figured customers would return, and it would take two of them to keep up.
"Babe," yelled Callie.
He tossed the can in the back of the pickup and joined his wife. She beamed up at him and put her hand around his back.
"I'm Kent Calder." He shook the man's hand beside Callie.
"Ned Freeman. I look forward to starting construction on Monday." He pushed back the bill of his cap. "I was telling Callie that the permit from the city came in yesterday. We can move the entrance over twenty feet and have the exit go to the side street with no problems."
"Good deal." He looped his arm over Callie's shoulders. "Did she talk to you about the roof over the pump?"
"Yeah, I suggested to her that one of you could go ahead and draw out a rough draft, giving me an idea of the design, and I'll have my architect draw up the plan before next week," said Ned.
Callie raised her brows at Kent. "I can't believe this is all coming together so fast."
"We're shooting to have it all done by October. We don't like working in the snow." Ned laughed. "I better bust these guys to get moving. I'll talk to you both later. If you have any questions, give me a call."
As soon as they were alone, he said, "Do you have everything done that you wanted to oversee here?"
"Yes." She hugged his waist, looking up at him. "Is it time?"
He kissed her. "If you want to swing by the rental house first, we should go now, so we're not late."
"I'm so excited for you." She linked her hand with his. "I bought a roll of film for the camera you bought me for my birthday. Don't let me forget it when we stop at home."
"Might want to keep that in your purse until afterward." He stopped at the Harley and got on. "Come to think of it, maybe I could take some pictures of you tonight."
"Right, and have the workers at Fotomat see them? No way." She laughed, climbing on the back of the Harley.
He should've bought her a Polaroid.
Patting her leg, he waited until she had her arms around him, and then he rode away from the property. While putting in his first year with Tarkio Motorcycle Club, he'd gained a sense of pride as he faced many challenges.
The transition of hanging up his travel map and staying put in one place turned out easier than he'd expected. He'd found a group of likeminded bikers that were loyal and passionate about the brotherhood as much as they were their own families.
Over twelve months, the trials he'd faced while riding with Tarkio tested, pushed, and only backed his decision to put on the leather and sew on the patch.
He checked his side mirror and turned right onto the side street. After tonight, wearing the Tarkio colors, he looked forward to doing more and becoming a dedicated member.
A lifelong member.
Most of all, he wanted to provide a family for Callie. She was comfortable around the members and respected their stance within the community. Where others rejected or turned their backs on her when the bogus rumors were swirling around Missoula, the bikers had never judged.
In return, she had never judged them.
Hell, some of their stories before joining Tarkio rivaled Callie's in hardships and hurt. It made him feel grateful that he had two parents for as long as he had, even though he'd lost them too soon.
Parking in the driveway, he cut off the engine. They had fifteen minutes before the vote, and he wondered if he had enough time to take Callie inside and have sex.
"I'll hurry." She climbed off the seat.
He grabbed her wrist, pulling her back, and kissed her hard and deep. His pulse pounded. He was so damn proud of her.
She moaned, sagging against him. Her arms went around his neck. He let his hand wander down her side and cupped her ass.
She pulled back, kissed him quickly, and her mouth softened. "Save it, babe. We'll have all the time in the world afterward. Neither one of us works tomorrow, and I plan on spending half that time in bed with you."
He slapped her butt. "Get on with you."
She hurried away. He put his foot on the pegs and looked after her, enjoying the view. There would only be a few more months of sleeping in the waterbed. He planned to buy a regular mattress for the new house.
While there were times he enjoyed the rolling of the water underneath him, he took his hint from Callie when she'd whispered to him in the dark a few nights ago that she wanted to feel more of him. Feel him harder. Feel him pound inside of her without banging her head into the headboard.