CHAPTER SIX
Bear
The faded planet stares back at me in the moonlight. I couldn’t sleep, the cabin was too quiet, the night is too warm, too close around me. After the events of today, I should be exhausted—I am exhausted—but still, sleep has never felt further away.
The main roller door is closed, but the lights are on inside. Yellow police tape flaps in the late-night breeze. I head around to the back of the shop and try the door. The handle turns and I open it. Tink sits at the workbench, an empty bottle of beer overturned on the counter. Her steely gaze bores into me, and the pistol in her hand is pointed right at my face.
“It’s just me. Don’t shoot.” I put my hands up to placate her. She lowers the gun and sets it on the workbench. “Or maybe you want to shoot because it is me.”
“I’m not in the mood, Bear.”
“I guess not if you’re calling me Bear.” I rap my knuckle on the stained wood. “You got any whiskey?”
“In my office, filed under ‘G’ for godsend.” I nod and wait for her to move. When it becomes clear she’s not going anywhere, I head in there and pull out the whiskey bottle and two shot glasses from the cabinet. I set them down in front of her and pour us both a glass.
“Your employee okay?”
She shrugs. “He made it through surgery, but he’s in an induced coma.” Tink swallows back the shot and I pour her another. “I don’t think I can fix your bike tonight.”
I nod. “I know. Plus, you’ve been drinking, so I’m not sure I trust you to put your hands on my baby right now.”
“God, how do you manage to make even that sound dirty?”
“It’s my special gift. I actually have a few of those.”
“Really? Do they include chauvinism and pissing people off?”
“Well, I was gonna go with eating pussy like a champ and fucking like the devil.”
“Touché.” She raises her glass and I fill it again for her.
I touch the plaster on her forehead where I must have nicked her when I threw myself on top of her. “You sure you should be drinking with that?”
“Yeah, it’s just a scratch.” She shoos me away, but I trail my thumb down the side of her face. “You hit like a fucking wrecking ball, by the way. I think I’m bruised from head to toe.”
I wince. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I get that you were just trying to protect me. Might have helped if you’d stayed in the room instead of being all up in your head.”
I sigh. “Certain sounds sometimes do that to me.”
“Sounds like gunfire?” She turns to face me head on. I nod. “And yet you joined a biker club.”
“Yeah, I did do that, didn’t I?”
“Did you find the shooters?”
“No, but Chaos is on it.”
“Right, so then we should expect another attack in a few days or so.”
“This is on me—not him, not the club. I’m the one who froze.”
“You wanna talk about that?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, well ... I need to get home.”
“You shouldn’t be alone right now, Tink. I don’t know why they’re hitting up your shop but seeing as yours was the only place in town they targeted, I’m assuming this has nothing to do with the club.”
She pushes to her feet and stumbles. I reach out a hand to steady her and Tink’s features crumple. Tears well in her eyes. I grasp her chin with my thumb and forefinger and tilt her face up to mine, but she yanks free of me.
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
She shakes her head. “I’m too tired to fight with you.”
“It’s okay, Tink. Even enemies deserve a night off every once in a while.” I slam another shot and place the glass on the counter, then I decide it’s time for me to leave before I do something I might regret. “I’ll be back tomorrow to harass you about my bike, and you’ll still be telling me off and hate fucking me in your dirty little mind.”
“You wish.”
“Maybe I do.”
“Are you drunk? Because you shouldn’t be driving if you are.”
“Aww, you really do care.” I give her a sad smile. “I walked here, and for the record, I’m sober as a fuckin’ judge, but every second I spend in your company, I feel a little more intoxicated.”
She turns her head, her lips so close that it hurts to physically restrain myself from taking her right here. Her gaze meets mine and there’s both fear and desire in her eyes as if she’s afraid to want me, afraid to fall.
She’s an angel, but I need a fucking warrior. I can’t handle being the only one to give my heart again, so I step back, and I walk away from Jupiter before I do something really fucking stupid like lose my heart.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jupiter
I walk into Grant’s hospital room and stare wide-eyed at all of the beeping machines.
“Naw, shit.” Grant’s voice is gruff with sleep. “Don’t tell me you’re here to bust my balls and order me to get back to work. I was hoping to milk at least a few days off out of this experience.”
Tears prick my eyes as I throw myself onto the bed to hug him.
“Ow!”
“Oh my god, sorry.” I pull away and stare up at the ceiling to keep my tears from falling. They roll out of the corners of my eyes anyway. “I’m so sorry this happened.”
“Shit, boss. If I’d known you’d throw yourself at me, I woulda got shot a long time ago.”
I laugh and practically collapse into the seat by the bed. It’s been a big few days, and I am utterly exhausted, but it could be worse. I could be lying in a hospital bed. “How are you doing?”
“Great.” Grant gives me a lazy thumbs up. “Woke up from a coma, so that’s a plus.”
I cover my mouth with my hand and then drop it to my lap picking at the chipped polish on my short nails. “I feel terrible you got hurt.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” Grant clears his throat. His eyelids flutter closed and open again, and I can tell he’s trying hard to fight the drugs. “I appreciate you coming to see me though. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever see me at all,” he mumbles. “’Specially now that the biker is in town.”
I grin. “Oh, they put you on the good stuff, huh?”
He reaches out his hand for me to take and I slip my fingers between his and squeeze.
“I should go and let you get some rest,” I say.
“Don’t go,” he mumbles. “I’ve been waitin’ for you to hold my hand since junior high, Jupiter Jones.”
I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen the way Grant looks at me. I’ve known for a long time that he’d like us to be more than employer and employee, but I’ve only ever looked at him like an extension of our family, like a brother. I wish I could see him as something more. It would certainly make life less complicated and less dangerous, I guess, than falling for someone from a motorcycle club, but I’ve never been good at pretending.
Grant’s still looking at me like he expects something more. I can’t give him that, so I say instead, “I bet you’ve said that to every woman who’s come to see you.”
“There’s only ever been you,” he slurs and closes his eyes. “Feels like I’ve been waiting on you my whole life.”
Goddamn it, Grant. I swallow around the lump in my throat and tears prick my eyes. It seems like everywhere I go men are making declarations that leave me speechless and tie me up in knots. I really do love Grant; I could just never love him the way he wants me to.
I grab a tissue from beside the bed and dry my eyes. A beat later, his snores fills the room and I beat a hasty retreat before I have to deal with any more feels for one day.
On my way out of the hospital, I see a familiar figure lurking in the halls. His back is to me, but I’d know the cut of those broad shoulders anywhere. As I get closer, it’s impossible not to overhear his conversation. “I can’t get that kind of cash.”
“Bobby Ray?”
He pulls the phone from his ear with a shaky hand, and then ends the call. “Juju, what are you doin’ here?”
“Visiting Grant. Who were you talking to?”
“No one. It’s er ... nothing.”
I narrow my eyes and whisper, “Cut the goddamn bullshit and start talkin’, Bobby Ray.”
His tearful gaze locks on mine. Shit. He’s not okay.
“You’re in hot water, aren’t you?”
He nods, but then his face crumples, and he threads his fingers behind his head and leans forward, gasping for breath. “I fucked it all up, Juju. I fucked everything.”
I glance at the nurse who hurries by, and the other people and patients roaming the hall, and I take my brother’s arm and lead him into the hospital chapel. It’s empty—thank God for small mercies, because if there’s one thing this town knows how to do it’s talk. Bobby Ray having a meltdown in the middle of our tiny hospital is bound to set tongues wagging. “What’s going on?”
“I’m in trouble, Juju.”
“Then you best tell me what kind of trouble before I strangle it out of you. Who was on the phone just now?”
“The bikers who shot up the garage.”
“What?” I frown. “Why would they be calling you?”
“Because I been moving drugs through the garage for them.”
I blink at my brother in surprise because there really isn’t any other response to that kind of idiocy. “How could you be so fucking stupid?” I lower my voice. “Through Kings territory? Through Daddy’s garage?”
“I know. I know.” He nods, and for the first time in my life, my older brother cries in front of me.
“How? How were you moving drugs through my shop right under my nose?”
“The guys from Atlanta would bring in a vehicle; the Bayou Bastards would too. I’d swap the packages from one car to the other. Complete a basic oil change or fit new brake pads so you didn’t suspect anything.”
“The blue Civic and the Ford Raptor?” I shake my head, unable to believe my idiot brother could have fucked us so badly.
“I’m sorry, Juju. I’m so fucking sorry. When they saw the Kings there, they just assumed I’d crossed them. When Grant got shot, I moved the drugs. I knew the cops would be crawling all over the garage and we’d all be screwed. But we missed the window for the exchange. Now both sides are gunning for my blood because they think I’m cutting in the Kings. I already told them I have the merchandise, but they no longer want it. They want me out altogether and if I don’t come up with the money for the drugs, they’re gonna burn the garage to the ground and come after me.”
Tears of exasperation sting my eyes and it’s suddenly hard to swallow around the lump in my throat, but I fight my emotions because if I don’t, we could lose everything. I almost lost a good friend and employee to these men. I could have lost one of my brothers. I’ll be damned if they’re getting anything else from me but the money my brother owes. “How much?”
“Seventy large.”
“Jesus, Bobby Ray. What the fuck were you thinking?” I pinch the bridge of my nose because I’m afraid I might pass out.
“I was trying to get the garage out of trouble.”
“What?”
“Aren’t you tired of scrimping and scraping funds at the end of every month just to pay the rent on that place?”
“That place was our father’s legacy.”
“Yeah, and now he’s dead, and we’re stuck with the debt that comes with it.”
I reach out and slap him. It’s instinctual, it’s wrong, but I’m so fucking angry I’m shaking. “Don’t you dare. That garage has kept you fed and with a roof over your head your whole life.”
“I was just trying to fix shit. Aren’t you tired, Juju? I’m so fucking tired of this town, of this life, of working my ass off day and night just to scrape even.”
“No one’s forcing you to be here, Bobby Ray. Jesus.” I shake my head. “Well, I guess that’s not true now, is it? Because if we don’t come up with the money, we’re all well and truly fucked.”
He rakes a hand across his shaved scalp. “What about staging another race? I bet we could bring in half the money right there.”
“Bobby Ray, are you doing the drugs you’re supposed to hand over to those people? The most I’ve ever made in one night was ten thousand dollars. I’d have to run races back-to-back every night for a week before I could make that kind of money. And if I lost to anyone, we’d be out even more.”
“You won’t lose. You never do.”
“I can’t do what you’re asking. If we get caught—and we will if we’re hosting a meet every damn night—I go to jail. We lose the garage anyway.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“We should go to the cops. I should turn your stupid ass in.”
“No.” He falls to his knees and grabs my hands, squeezing hard. “Please? You can’t. If you go to the feds, I am done. I go to jail for the rest of my life and there’s no telling if they’ll leave the rest of you alone. They’ll probably burn the garage down anyway.”
He’s right. As angry as I am with him right now, I would never turn him in. He’s my blood. This kind of stupidity though? That must come from some looney tunes old ancestor, because Mama and Daddy would never do something like this just to keep the garage out of trouble. “Goddamn you, Bobby Ray.”
I may give them hell every day at work, and as much as they drive me crazy, I adore each and every one of my brothers, but this? I may never forgive him for putting me in this position.
There’s only one person I know who could get me that kind of cash. I just have to decide if I can live with what I have to do to get it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jupiter
I stare up at Ruin’s house. I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but I really don’t have another choice. My daddy’s garage is sinking, and I can’t let everything we’ve all worked so hard to build go under because Bobby Ray ran us into the ground. I have no other choice. I just hope to God my brothers don’t ever see this.
I lift my hand to knock, but Ruin pulls back the door and sweeps me into a huge hug. “Jupiter! Girl, what are you doin’ here?”
“Hi. I hope it’s okay for me to drop by?”
“Of course. You know you’re welcome anytime.” Ruin ushers me inside and my gaze darts around the newly remodeled home. He glances back at me as he heads into an oversized living room. “Tyra’s at the mall with Leah, but you’re welcome to wait.”
“Um, actually ... I was wondering if I could talk to you?”
“Yeah, of course. What’s up, darlin’? You in some kind of trouble?”
“Well, not me specifically, but the garage might be.”
“Come on into my office.”
I almost laugh at that, because what kind of person in his line of business conducts work in an office? But Ruin leads the way through the expanse of the house, and I follow. It’s a little left of field as far as workspaces go—just a desk with a laptop on it, a standard office chair, and a whole heap of extra lighting equipment.
He grabs a box light diffuser and tosses it on the ground, brushing off the chair in the corner and setting it in front of his. “You want something to drink?”
“Whiskey, if you have it?”
“You do know who you’re talkin’ to, right?”
“Right.” I give him a tight smile as he pours us both a finger from the drink cart against the wall.
“So, what can I do for you?”
He hands me a glass and I down the amber liquid in one go, wincing as it burns the entire way down.
“Jesus, darlin’. Where’s the fuckin’ fire?”
“I need you to put me in one of your films,” I blurt.
Ruin’s brows shoot into his hairline. “What?”
“I mean, I could always do my own video, I guess, but you guys already have the setup and the subscribers. I figured this was the fastest way to get the money.”
/> Ruin narrows his eyes. “What kind of trouble you in?”
“I ... it’s not me. It’s Bobby Ray.” I’m not stupid enough to give Ruin all the details. Chaos would kill him for running drugs through Kings territory, especially when he found out that a rival motorcycle club is involved, not to mention this organization in Atlanta. “He took some money from the garage’s account and invested in something that didn’t pay off.”
Ruin screws up his face. “So, let me get this straight. He fucks up and you have to pay for his mistakes?”
I shrug. “It’s my garage. I’m the only one responsible if it goes under.”
“Darlin’, you don’t have to do this. Not that we wouldn’t be happy to have you. Fuck, pretty, edgy little thing like you will make us all a million bucks, but you shouldn’t be the one to have to bail his stupid ass out.”
“He’s my brother.”
“Fucking family, right? Can’t live with them, can’t live without ’em.” He pours us both another drink and takes a sip from his glass. “Alright. Crow’s been asking for a shoot, so this could work.”
“Crow?”
“Yeah. Look, you don’t have to be partnered; you could do something solo.”
“No, Crow’s great.”
“Crow’s great for what?” a voice says from the doorway. Chills run the length of my spine, but I can’t look at him.
Tennessee.
Fuck. I hadn’t even known he was here.
I open my mouth, but Ruin beats me to it. “Jupiter wants to shoot a video.”
I do look at him then. I’m not sure why I feel his opinion matters, but his cold, razor-sharp gaze slides to mine. “That what you want?”
“I came here, didn’t I?”
“You in some kind of trouble?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
Bear shakes his head and growls. “No.”
“Excuse me?”
“No, you’re not shooting that shit with Crow.”
I frown. “I don’t think you really get a say in this.”
Bear (Kings of Carnage MC - Prospects Book 4) Page 4