Dirty Deeds

by James, Nicole

  “Being with a patch holder, one who wants both a club and an ol’ lady in his life, then you have found a pretty special man. And to me, there’s nothing better.”

  “Please, help me. I’ve got to get them to let Reno go.”

  “We can’t, honey. Shades and Ghost would kill us.”

  “There has to be some way.” I wrack my brain, trying to think of something and then it comes to me. “Reno’s phone! They took it. Could you get it for me? I could call Rusty. He could talk to Shades.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Skylar says.

  Jessie looks from her to me, and something in her eyes makes me think she might help me. “Let’s go see what they want us to do with her.”

  They leave and return about fifteen minutes later.

  “We’ll take you to your home now,” Skylar says and unlocks the cuffs. I rub my wrist.

  “Thank you. What about Reno?” I ask.

  Jessie shakes her head. “We’re only taking you.”

  They move to the door, but I don’t stand. Skylar looks back. “Come on.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not leaving Reno.”

  “Honey, you can’t do anything. The men are going to do what they’re going to do.”

  “Would you say that if the situation were reversed, and it were the DKs who held the man you love?”

  Jessie looks over at Skylar. “She’s got us there.”

  Skylar sighs.

  “What harm can one phone call do?” Jessie asks Skylar.

  “Are you kidding? They could send the entire club to shoot this place up. Have you forgotten when they firebombed us?”

  “Guess you’re right.”

  I ignore the part about the firebomb and skip to the part about them sending the entire club. “Rusty won’t do that. Reno told me their VP, Rat is trying to take over the club. They’re trying to stop him. Rusty and Reno—they want to clean the club up. None of the DKs are going to come to their rescue; they think Rusty and Reno double-crossed their president. Rat set them up, but it was really him who did it.”

  “You follow any of that?” Jessie asked Skylar.

  “Enough to know their club’s in turmoil.”

  “If that’s true, maybe what she says is right. Maybe they won’t come save Reno.”

  “But Rusty will. I know it. He won’t leave Reno out to dry.”

  They look at each other.

  “Please,” I beg. “I love him. I can’t let them hurt him or worse. This is all my fault.”

  “How is it your fault?”

  “If Reno hadn’t risked everything to save me, he never would have gotten caught by your guys.”

  “Kara—“

  Tired of trying to explain, my nerves snap and so does my voice. “Please.”

  Skylar draws in a long slow breath. “You have a connection to Reno. I don’t get it, but you have one, and you want to believe he can be a better man because you have a huge heart. But he does not deserve the faith you put in him.”

  I pound my fist on the bed. “He does! He went against his club for me! Why can’t you understand?”

  “Come on, Skylar, give her a break,” Jessie murmurs, then turns to me. “Do you know Rusty’s number?”

  I shake my head. “That’s why I need Reno’s phone.”

  Skylar sighs. “All right, fine. I used to have his number. I don’t know if it’s still the same, but I could try.”

  Hope rises in me. “Oh my God, thank you.”

  Jessie frowns at Skylar. “You still have his number?”

  “I had it memorized. It was an easy number. I still remember it.”

  I clasp her arm. “Oh, please try it.”

  She pulls out her cell phone and punches the number in, putting it to her ear. After a minute, she mouths, “Voicemail.” Then she speaks. “Rusty, if this is still your number, this is Skylar. Please call me back. It’s important. It’s about Reno. The club has him.”

  She disconnects and looks at me. “If it’s him, he’ll call.”

  We wait. Less than five minutes go by before her phone rings. She scrambles to answer it, putting it on speaker.

  “Hello.”

  “Sky?”

  “Rusty?”

  “Yeah. Where is Reno?”

  “He’s here at the clubhouse.”

  “Rusty,” I call out.

  There’s silence for a moment then he says, “Kara?”

  “Yes, I was with Reno when they took him. Please, you have to help us.”

  “Hang tight, babe. I’m coming.”

  “Please hurry.”

  “Skylar?”

  “Yes, Rusty?”

  “Tell your ol’ man I’m coming in an hour to parley. White flag and all that shit. Tell him I’m coming alone.”

  He disconnects, and Skylar looks at me. “Shades is going to kill me for this.”

  “Tell him I did it. Tell him I asked to call my father, then when I got off the phone I told you Rusty was coming.”

  Jessie looks at Skylar. “Beats tellin’ him what you just did.”

  “I hate lying to Shades. He always knows.”

  “Bullshit. I bet you five bucks he buys it,” Jessie says with a grin.

  I know I probably just overstepped some forbidden boundary. Talking as freely as I did felt like being disloyal in some way, but I had no choice. I pray Reno sees it that way. It’s a chance I had to take. I only hope Rusty gets here in time before it’s too late for Reno.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Reno—

  I’m awakened by water thrown in my face and realize I passed out. I wonder how long I’ve been that way. It feels like a long time. My face explodes in pain, and all my limbs are numb. I’m still chained to the chair, but two men stand over me. One releases the chains, leaving my hands still duct taped together. They drag me upstairs, a man holding each arm. My face is battered and bleeding. I’m led to the office I’d been in with Rusty last time we were here.

  My left eye is swollen, but I can see my brother in a chair in front of the desk Shades occupies.

  I’m surprised to see Rusty, but I try not to show it. His gaze takes in my injury, though he says nothing. I’m glad he’s here, but not sure what his presence means.

  “Cut him loose,” Shades orders, and one of the men pulls a knife. I feel him slice through my bonds. Shades nods to the chair next to Rusty. “Sit.”

  I flex my numb fingers and wipe the blood from my face with my sleeve, dropping to the seat.

  Shades leans forward, his elbows on the desk. “Rusty’s been tellin’ me your plans.”

  I eye my brother with my good eye. “Has he now.” I’m still not sure just what he’s said.

  Rusty drops his boot from his knee and sits up straighter, his eyes on Shades. “We pull this off—”

  “And that’s a big if,” Shades interrupts.

  “We do, we’re gonna be lookin’ to form some new alliances, like I said. I’d like to bury the hatchet between our two clubs, at least between our two chapters.”

  Shades eyes him, turning a quarter between two fingers over and over while I shift my gaze between the two. This is some high stakes poker, and I’m not sure Rusty’s holding any aces.

  Shades lifts his chin. “You’ve dragged us into this whole deal with the judge’s daughter.”

  “You dragged yourself into it,” Rusty counters.

  “Don’t even try that. You came across my fucking border with this shit.”

  I cut in. “If our club finds out I didn’t kill her, she may still be in danger. Where is she?”

  “She’s safe. We don’t agree with killing women and innocents in this club.”

  “This is extraordinary shit, VP,” a man says from his spot against the wall.

  “Not sayin’ it ain’t, Ghost,” Shades replies. He studies Rusty a long moment, and finally jerks his head toward the door. “Take him and the girl and get out of here. The rest of this we’ll revisit if and when yo
u end up with the gavel.”

  Rusty stands and extends his hand. To my surprise Shades actually takes it. I stand, wanting nothing more than to find Kara. “Where is she?”

  Shades jerks his head. “Waitin’ for you outside.”

  Rusty and I make a hasty retreat through the club and out the door. The sedan’s parked at the gate by the alley. I glance around; the bright morning light tells me I’ve been held all night. Holy fuck. My only concern is finding Kara. I turn and see her running toward me from a picnic table under a tree. She flings herself into my arms, and I wince, but the pain doesn’t stop me from holding her tight, every bone in my body aching, and it never felt so damn good.

  “Oh, Reno.”

  “Baby,” I whisper into her hair.

  She’s sobbing now. “They hurt you. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I was so worried, so scared for you.”

  She pulls back and looks at me. Taking in my face, she covers her mouth.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” I lie.

  There are a couple of patch members playing catch with baseball mitts on the other side of the yard, teaching a young adolescent how to throw. I notice a couple ol’ ladies over by the picnic table where Kara had been. She turns and waves goodbye. Appears she’s gotten friendly with them. I hope they treated her well.

  I watch the Evil Dead patches, the women chatting contentedly. I’m motionless, watching several children too as they roll and play in the dusty grass.

  There’s a toddler girl running around, her little ringlets bouncing. She’s spinning in a circle.

  “Rebel, come here to Mama,” a woman calls, and I glance over. I remember her, and when her eyes connect with mine, I know she remembers me, too. She freezes. It’s Skylar, the girl who used to be with Rusty, the girl who’s now Shades’ ol’ lady. I give her a slight nod, and wish I could apologize to her for things in the past, but this isn’t the time. I just want to get Kara out of here.

  The toddler heads our way. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the baseball flying through the air headed straight for the little girl’s face. I don’t even think; I just dive for her. I feel the impact of the ball hitting my back as I block it from hitting the child. We both go down to the ground, and I shelter her, keeping my weight from landing on her.

  I hear Skylar scream and the child start to cry. The next thing I know I’m surrounded by Evil Dead patches pulling me away.

  “Get the fuck off her,” someone shouts.

  “My baby, oh, my baby.” Skylar scoops up the child, clutching her tight, then turns on the men pinning me down. “Stop, let him go!”

  Shades pushes through the crowd to his child and ol’ lady. He kneels beside them. “Are you okay? Is Rebel hurt?”

  “She’s fine, thanks to Reno.”

  “What?”

  “The baseball almost hit her. He shoved her out of the way and took the hit himself,” she explains.

  Shades runs his hand over his child’s head, then stands and moves toward me. “Let him go.”

  The patches instantly release me. I’m on my back. Shades extends his hand and pulls me to my feet.

  “I owe you one,” he says, shaking my hand.

  I nod.

  He looks at Rusty. “Let me know what happens with your club.” His eyes take us both in. “Good luck. Any way I or my club can assist, let me know.”

  Rusty nods. “Thanks.”

  Skylar stands with the child on her hip and comes to me. She holds her hand out. “Thank you for what you did for my baby.”

  I take it. “I owed you one.”

  She smiles. “We’re even now.”

  Another woman walks up and hands Kara an ice pack, nodding to me. “For your ol’ man.”

  “Thanks, Jessie,” Kara says, smiling.

  I turn Kara toward the car waiting in the alley. She looks over her shoulder, and mouths, thank you. Skylar nods. I’m beginning to have an idea how Rusty showed up to save the day when he had no clue where we were. Leave it to women to go behind the scenes and meddle, this time for the better.

  Rusty gets behind the wheel, and I crawl in the backseat with Kara. Rusty looks over the seat.

  “You okay, butterfly?”

  She nods. “Just get us out of here. Please.”

  “You got it.” He hits the gas. “You did good, Kara. Callin’ me was the smartest thing you coulda done. You got a wise woman, Reno.”

  I take her hand and bring it to my mouth. “That I do. You really came through for me, babe. Thank you.”

  We aren’t even to the end of the alley, and I’m shifting to lie across the seat, my head in Kara’s lap. She presses the ice pack to my eye and cheekbone.

  “We goin’ back to the motel?” I ask Rusty.

  He meets my eyes in the rearview. “Nah. We’re meeting Jammer, Bandit, and Gypsy.”

  “Where?”

  “Cadillac Club.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as I can get us there. Meetin’ before they open. We gotta haul ass back to Atlanta.”

  “What’s the Cadillac Club?” Kara asks.

  “Strip club,” Rusty answers from the front seat. “We droppin’ her off, first?”

  “Nope,” I reply.

  “You sure?” he asks.

  “After what we just been through, I’m not lettin’ her out of my sight.”

  He chuckles. “Doubt she’d let you.”

  Kara brushes her hand across my forehead, stroking my hair. I know my busted face looks like hell, and I can’t believe she can even look at me like this. But her touch is addicting, and I don’t want her to stop.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Kara—

  Two hours later, we’re pulling in the parking lot of the strip club. Reno has dosed off, and I hate to wake him. I look up at the sign. It’s gaudy purple neon with the outline shape of a woman.

  Rusty parks and looks back. “Reno, we’re here. Wake up, bro.”

  Reno rouses, sitting up from my lap. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “My face hurts.”

  “It looks like shit, too,” Rusty says, climbing out.

  Reno crawls out and extends his hand to me. I take it and climb from the car. I follow them inside the double-glass doors. The printed hours say they don’t open until noon, but even though that’s an hour away, the doors aren’t locked. Maybe someone is expecting us.

  Reno holds the door for me. There’s a maître de stand with a cash register and a velvet rope. No one is there. Rusty unhooks it, and we walk down a hallway to a large open room filled with mirrors.

  It’s not as dark as I expected. I suppose because they haven’t opened and the lights are on. Straight ahead is a large stage with two poles. On the right is a long bar. In the middle is a table stage with a pole on either end. Other round tables look like they’re for private dances with a few bar stools around them. A bunch of comfy chairs perfect for lap dances, are scattered around.

  A staircase on the left leads to an upper level loft. Reno tugs me toward the bar.

  “Sit here.” He pulls out a stool. There’s a pretty blonde bartender at the other end, cutting up lemons and limes, preparing for opening. Reno whistles, and she comes over, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

  “Hey, Reno. Haven’t seen you around in a while.” Her eyes skate over his face. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. You wouldn’t happen to have any pain killers would you?”

  She smiles, pulls a purse from under the bar, and plops it on the counter. She digs for a prescription bottle, and shakes out a pill. “This should do the trick. Just don’t drive.”

  He holds his palm up, and she drops it in. “Thanks, doll.”

  She fills a glass with water and sets it in front of him. He pops the pill and takes a gulp. “Starla, this is Kara. Can you take care of her for me? I’ll be upstairs. Shouldn’t take long.”

  “Sure, thing, hon.”

  Oh, hell, no. I grab his arm. “Where are you going? Don�
��t leave me here.”

  His warm hand slides to the back of my neck and pulls me toward him. With a press of his lips to my forehead, he calms me. He looks down in my eyes, his face a mere inch from mine. “I’ve got to talk to some people. I can’t take you in this meeting, Kara. You’re gonna have to wait here, okay?”

  I stare up at him. No, it’s not okay, but he’s leaving me no choice.

  “I’ll watch out for her,” Starla offers.

  He kisses my lips, and then he’s gone. He follows Rusty up the staircase.

  “Is he your man?” Starla asks with a smile.

  I nod.

  “He’s one good looking guy. You’re a lucky girl.”

  I wonder just how well she knows him. She reads my mind.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve never been with Reno, so stop giving me the evil eye.”

  The corner of my mouth pulls up. “Sorry.”

  “No problem. If he was mine, I’d feel the same way. What can I get you?”

  “Just a cola.”

  She uses a beverage gun to fill a glass for me and continues getting her bar area set up. She makes conversation while she does, and I’m appreciative of it.

  “What do you think of this color?” She holds up her manicure. Her nails are dark purple with little rhinestones.

  “Very pretty.”

  She admires them. “I usually don’t go so dark, but I couldn’t resist this shade.”

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “Been bartending about a year.” She lifts her chin toward the stage. “Before that I used to dance.”

  I turn and look behind me, trying to imagine dancing up there. “Why’d you stop?”

  “I messed up my back. I couldn’t do the pole anymore. Plus nowadays, in here at least, there’s good money in bartending. I get a lot of tips. Guys like to sit at my bar and have my attention on them. I flirt. I make them feel attractive and wanted. And I don’t have to give them a lap dance.”

  “Wow. How much do they tip?”

  “On a Saturday, I can make anywhere from three hundred to almost a thousand if there’s a big convention in town.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “Plus I’ve got this whole social media thing going. I have almost a million followers, and I’ve gotten some money from endorsements for anything from eyelashes, hair products, makeup, even clothes.”