by Karen Renee
She sighed. “Hello, yourself. I want to preface this by saying, Turk is obligated to call you.”
Of course, Turk was the reason she was calling. “He’s obligated, huh? He doesn’t just want to shoot the shit with me like old times?”
“He’s right here,” Suzy said.
I turned my head to the side. “Shoulda picked up on the fact I’m on speaker.”
Turk’s tone when he spoke was tighter than I’d ever heard it. “Yeah. You should have, Steph. Now, where the fuck are you? I don’t like having any Riot brother breathing down my neck about shit, but damn sure not a president.”
“I’m in a hotel room.”
“You sure that’s not a motel room?” Suzy asked.
I scoffed. “No. It’s a well-respected and reputable property.”
Hearing my words, I realized I laid it on a bit too thick and gave myself away.
“So you’re staying at the casino?” Turk asked, but continued, “You damn sure need to be vigilant about security since we don’t know where Wycliffe is.”
I sighed. “I know I have to look over my shoulder, Turk. And I will keep all the locks on the door engaged. Do not tell Har where I am, please? I’m sure this is falling on deaf ears, but seriously, I need some time and space from him.”
After a moment, I heard Turk sigh. “Hate to say it, honey, but he wants even more space away from you.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from asking, ‘what’ and to keep from bursting into tears. After a deep breath, I steeled my spine. “Well, now you can report back, and he shouldn’t be breathing down your neck. Sorry he dragged you into this, Turk. You have a good night, all right?”
“Stephie,” he started, but Suzy’s voice came at me and I knew she’d taken me off speaker.
“Honey, I’m worried. Do you need to talk? I can call you back in five minutes as soon as Turk leaves.”
I shook my head. “No, Suze. Life’s a bitch, right? And she’s damn sure a bitch who keeps on serving up lessons I have to learn. Just sad I have to learn the hard way every damn time.”
Someone knocked at the door.
“Suze, I’m thinking room service is here, so I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Love you.”
Looking through the peephole, I saw an employee holding a tray. While I tucked the phone into my back pocket, I opened the door. He carried the tray to the small table, and I dug cash out of my pocket for a tip.
My order included a bottle of wine, and I wondered if a corkscrew had been left behind, but I noticed the bottle had already been uncorked. After the door closed, I engaged the metal security bar and poured myself a generous glass of merlot.
After a sip, I took my glass to the bathroom and inspected the tub. It seemed clean enough, so I engaged the stopper and set the water to hot and filled it up. There wasn’t any bubble bath, but I didn’t care. A long soak with a glass of wine would do me good.
Har
THE NIGHT STEPHANIE hauled ass out of the clubhouse, Block and Tiny brought Carter into the clubhouse. It was the only good thing that happened that night since it allowed them to put an end to that shitshow – literally – and it gave him an outlet for his mounting rage.
Tiny put his arm around Carter’s shoulders as they moved toward the bar. “Thinkin’ it’s time this boy earned his cut, don’t you think President?”
Carter looked around the room. “Uh, I know that’s not right. Hardly any of the brothers are here.”
Har propped a hip on a stool and leaned his forearm on the bar. “You know that isn’t right, but you don’t know it’s wrong to let a woman into my house without my fucking knowledge?”
Carter’s Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow.
“Right,” Har whispered. “You see my face? Her fuckin’ brother did that to me, and because you let them into my place—”
“I didn’t know about a brother—”
“Shut up when I’m talkin’ to you!” he roared.
Carter’s head reared back and he shuffled his feet before he nodded.
“You let them in. You’re as responsible for the literal shit they did to my house as they are.”
He grimaced. When the silence stretched he looked at Har with pleading eyes.
“May I speak, President?”
With the slightest movement, he nodded.
“She told me she had a surprise planned for you along with your new chick. There wasn’t any sign of a brother, I swear.”
Block crowded in on Carter’s other side. “What about Layla? That’s what I want to know. She’s been playin’ all of us, except Wreck and Massive. Why didn’t you clue us in on that shit, boy?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t know for sure.”
Har looked to Tiny who had turned narrowed eyes to Carter.
“That sounds like utter bullshit, Car,” Tiny said.
“She was goin’ down on me out here when Massive busted in with a bloody nose. He told her it was time to go, then he looked me in the eye and said I was a dead man if I said anything to anybody.”
The sound of a slap cracked the air and Har saw Carter ducking his head as Tiny’s hand came down. “What the fuck’d I tell you? Gettin’ your rocks off will get you knocked off. Guess what, dumbass. That’s exactly what’s happened here.”
Carter raised wide eyes to Har. “You’re gonna kill me? I didn’t do anything!”
Har pressed his lips together for a moment. “That’s the fuckin’ problem, now isn’t it? When you should’ve spoke up... you didn’t do anything. When you should’ve asked if I wanted Diana in my goddamn house... you didn’t do anything. Shit like this doesn’t fuckin’ end if we don’t do anything about it.”
“But... killing me?” he cried, and his feet shuffled again and Har realized the kid was about to piss his pants.
Har shook his head. “Have a seat. My V.P. is down with my plan; we won’t kill you... yet.”
“The fuck?” Tiny asked.
Har raised his brow, and Tiny shook his head. “Sorry, Prez.”
He pointed a finger at Block and jerked his head toward the kitchen. When he and Block were well out of sight, he stopped. “Most people either left or retreated to their rooms after my earlier outburst and Stephie leaving. You and Tiny weren’t here for that. I don’t know where Brute is right now, but my thinking is, we’ll restrain this asshole in Brute’s room since he’s got an extra bed and I know he’s got the hardware installed for restraining someone.”
Block nodded. “Okay, but really, Prez, are you thinking of letting this go? That’s the ultimate sign of you goin’ soft on us.”
“Fuck no, I’m not letting this go. But, I can see where he got duped. Twice. And being that stupid means he’s never gonna earn his cut. At the same time, he’s that damn stupid, he could run his mouth and other shit.”
Block nodded. “It’s a no-brainer. He fucked up, fucked you over to the point neither you nor your woman has a bed. You’ll be lucky if professionals can clean up what those assholes did to your pad.”
“I’m aware, man. Which is exactly why those two are dead. But we don’t need Carter fuckin’ us over by runnin’ his goddamn mouth.”
“And so he dies with them,” Block said, extending his hand out with a flourish.
“That has to be the plan. Even if I don’t like it,” he muttered.
They wandered back to the bar where Carter sat bouncing his leg like a tweaker. Har smiled, but Carter was too wrapped up in his head to notice.
“Carter. Can you stop with the nervous-leg shit for a minute?”
The moment he heard his name, Carter focused on Har and slowed his leg bounce.
He smiled again. “Thanks. Gonna take you to Brute’s room. I’m thinkin’ you have to piss, and you’re gonna do that in Brute’s bathroom. Unfortunately, either Block or Tiny will be watching you. Also, I need your cell. Not gonna kill you, yet.”
Carter’s mouth dropped open and he stammered. “Y...yet?”
Har threw a
hand out lightly. “You’re doing a damn sight better than Diana and her brother, Dixon. They’re strapped to chairs with buckets under ’em. At least you’ll have a bed, so don’t fuck it up.”
His phone rang with a ringtone he assigned to all the Jacksonville Riot brothers and he knew it would be Turk. He pulled the phone from his back pocket, turned on his heel and headed back to his room. “Yeah, Turk.”
“She’s in a hotel room.”
He nodded, but couldn’t pull up any words. They had both been in the wrong earlier, but her immediate reaction defaulted to bolting. He suggested sex with no ties; she packed her shit in the only box available. She thought she could fall in love with him; she retreated to her futon to scroll through apartments. He overreacted to her justifiable reaction to his disregard for public displays of affection; and she stormed out.
Yeah. He didn’t need that constant yo-yo shit in his life, which was why he told Turk he wanted serious space from her ass. Since he only saw him twice a year, Turk didn’t know he didn’t mean it. The sharp pain in his chest from the idea of her in a hotel room underscored what he already knew.
She was it, and he loved her.
Deep down he wanted to roar into the hotel she was at and knock her door down, but that wouldn’t work.
“You hear me, man?” Turk asked.
Har shook his head. “Sorry, Turk. But yeah. I heard you. I’m glad she’s at a hotel and not some sleezy dive like she was in before.”
Turk chuckled. “A man who wants lots of space from a woman doesn’t give two shits about where she’s at, but for what it might be worth to you, she’s never been one to pass up a deal, and she’s staying at the casino where she works.”
His lips spread into a wide smile. “That’s good to know, Turk. Thanks. Owe you a marker for this—”
“Fuck that. Buy my ass a drink and some good pulled pork at Biketober Fest next month, we’re fuckin’ square, man.”
He chuckled. “Done. Later.”
As he tucked the phone back into his pocket, his other hand yanked his keys out to unlock his room door. She could have this night away from him. He didn’t like it, but he’d deal. Thinking about her at that casino jarred another thought and he called Turk back.
“Yeah, Prez?” he answered.
Har chuckled. “Not your president, man, but thanks. Had another favor to ask.”
“You got it.”
He smirked. That was the loyalty the Riot brothers were known for. “You might regret this later.”
Turk chuckled. “Not likely.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. Ask Liar to call me. Beast, too, if he’s around. Both of their dads work at the casino, and I know Charlie deals cards since I watched him relieve her from a table more than once.”
“Consider it done. Later.”
Two hours later, Har’s phone rang again with a local number he didn’t recognize, but he answered it since he suspected it would be Beast’s father, Delmas, who worked the hotel side of the casino property employing Stephanie.
“My son tells me, you want to talk to me,” Delmas said after Har answered.
The man’s tone said he wasn’t down with bending rules, but Har hoped he could convince him otherwise. “Yes, sir. I fucked up with my woman.”
A deep, throaty laugh rang through the line. “That might be the first time I heard one of you bikers admit to doing wrong.”
He snorted a brief chuckle. “And probably the last, sir.”
“Yeah, you can save the ‘sir’ business for now. Got that this woman works here, but how is it that I’m supposed to help?”
When he finished with his request the line was eerily quiet, but he waited it out.
Delmas sighed. “I swear to all that’s holy, if it ain’t my own son, it’s one of you ‘brothers’ trying to put my damn retirement in jeopardy. I’d say you owe me after this, but I can’t imagine what you could give me to make up for this sort of thing.”
“Sir,” he started, but Delmas cut him off.
“What’d I say about that ‘sir’ shit? Save it, Har. Know who you are and what you are to that club. So, if I can’t deliver, you’ll figure your own way into the room, even if it means a battering ram, which I’d end up repairing the door afterward anyway, so... I’ll need until at least lunchtime. There’s a woman who works dayside who’s sweet on me, but I need this type of info, I gotta bide my time.”
Har smiled. “Whatever you need, Delmas. And seriously, if this puts your job in danger, don’t bother. Like you said, I can figure something else out, but I’d rather sneak up on her, if you know what I mean.”
“I do. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He showered before climbing into his bed. Even if she’d only spent a few nights with him, he struggled to find sleep without Stephanie.
Chapter 23
The Price You've Got to Pay
Har
IN THE MORNING, ROMAN cornered Har at the coffee pot. “I’m thinking brother and sister have a faulty vehicle which will—”
Har held a hand out for a moment. “Say no more. That’s feasible.”
He grinned. “Except for one problem.”
Har’s eyes narrowed. “Come again?”
“We have to get rid of Carter too, don’t we?”
Har fought wobbling his head. He hated the idea still, but knew it couldn’t be avoided.
He hesitated too long.
Roman bit out, “Lightning does not strike twice, Prez.”
He held his hands out in a conceding gesture. “You’re right.”
“Anyway, I’m thinking sister and boyfriend are traveling when big brother crashes the party or comes to the vehicle to help them.”
Block sauntered up to them. “Just found out, Wreck recently bought a small house on the wrong side of town. A house that’s known as a cook-site.”
Roman turned to Block, his eyebrow arched with curiosity. “Meth, you don’t say?”
Block grinned. “Yeah. Even though harder drugs would bring us more money, skimming full payments for our product would help Wreck with a down payment on that property.”
Har shot a grin at Roman. “My guess is that this already occurred to you, but fuck the car problems. I hear meth houses are very combustible. Weren’t there two in Jacksonville that exploded a while back?”
Roman’s teeth gleamed against his bronze complexion. “Don’t know, Prez. I don’t follow news outside the great state of Mississippi. But, meth is damn dangerous stuff.”
Har opened his mouth to tell them they needed to hold church, but the front door opened and a police detective, Travis Dennizen, stood in the doorway. Dennizen stood around five-foot-eight, but had the build of a tank. Rumor had it, his shirts had to be custom made for the width of his biceps, as well as the girth of his chest. His brown eyes were set wide on his face, while his cheeks were angular, giving his face a hard look. He kept his hair so short, Har wondered if he went to his barber every week.
Today he wore a slate-gray dress shirt with charcoal slacks, his badge well displayed on his black belt. While the Biloxi police force had many detectives, only three of them were black –Dennizen being one of the three– and two were Hispanic.
Of all the detectives who could visit the Riot MC, Dennizen was the last one Har wanted to see because he was most likely the best detective on the Biloxi PD.
All three men’s bodies went tight, but they hid their reaction from the visitor.
“Can we help you, officer?” Block asked, turning on his good ol’ boy charm.
Dennizen let the door close behind him, keeping his eyes on them. “Looking for two of your members. Furman Pollard, you know him as ‘Massive’ or ‘Mass,’ and Norris Strickland, better known as ‘Wreck.’ They in their rooms?”
Har stepped forward, shaking his head.
“No, sir. I’ll open their rooms for you to peek in, but they haven’t been around the past two days.”
Dennizen’s lips shifted as he took in Har. After a moment,
he shook his head.
“No, I think I believe you on that. In fact, I get the feeling you don’t know where they are.”
He kept eye contact with the detective and intended to remain silent, but thought better of it at the last minute.
“You’re very intuitive, Detective Dennizen. Wreck and Massive have missed two meetings now, and we dropped by their places looking for them last night.”
Dennizen nodded, but said nothing.
Har tucked his hands in his pockets. “There a reason you’re looking for them?”
The detective half-way mimicked Har’s stance, putting one hand in his pocket and stroking his chin with the other. “How about Layla Gauthier? She around, by chance?”
Something in the detective’s tone shifted and he thought the man was fishing for information, but Har didn’t show he picked up on it. “No, sir. Last time I saw Layla was Sunday night.”
He was pushing it with the lie, since they had let Layla go home Monday before noon, but he wasn’t about to give the detective more information than necessary.
Dennizen gave him a long look, then looked behind him to Roman and Block. “Any other members around this morning?”
Roman sidled up next to Har. “Sorry, Detective, just the three of us. Not many brothers spend the night here during the work week.”
A small smile tipped up the detective’s lips. “Glad you brought that up. Har, why are you here, first thing in the morning? You’ve got your own house and word on the street is that you stay there nearly every night unless it’s the weekend.”
Har smiled. “I’m having some work done, sir.”
The detective raised an eyebrow. “What type of work?”
He dipped his chin as his smile dimmed. “Extermination and A.C. work. Seems a rat got into my place. It ate a hole in my duct work, crawled inside and died. The stench is awful, and my electric bill was triple since I was cooling my attic.”
“Don’t envy that, but you’re not using ‘rat’ as a euphemism for Layla Gauthier, are you?”
Har furrowed his brows. “Why would I do that?”
Dennizen looked to Roman and Block. “Layla’s body was found this morning by her sister.”