by A P Foote
Damn, what am I getting myself into?
Cass
Kat’s pissed, but unfortunately I don’t have time for that. Just because I’m not working with the Feds anymore doesn’t mean my job is done. Get in with the club, find the treasure, get the girl, get out.
Nix and I ride side by side with Clyde taking up the front. He spares me a glance every so often in his mirror, keeping an eye on me and waiting for me to fuck up. That won’t happen, not this time.
What’s he thinking? He has an ulterior motive for sponsoring me. I don’t know if it has to do with keeping me close because of Kat, or if his intentions are more malicious than that.
We left town a few miles ago headed in the direction of Long Branch, a town not that far away. One of the guys said something about ferrying to Meridian, but other than that I don’t know the plan.
Clyde throws up the signal letting us know to be ready as the dock comes into view. Big and small boats docked along the edges bob in the water’s wake. Parking under a tree sitting in the far corner we cut our engines.
Small caps crashing against the dock and bike stands clinking against the pavement are the only sounds filling the cool night air.
“Come on,” Clyde says walking ahead of Nix and me. Clyde had changed his mind about coming and who was coming with.
Our boots thud against the wooden dock, the breeze off the water sending a chill up my spine. A boat’s horn sounds in the distance as a larger than life white yacht approaches its docking station.
Nix stops next to Clyde. “We just picking up the shipment?”
Clyde shakes his head. “No, I wanna see what they know about The Power. They’ve been in a race war with each other from the beginning. Difference is these guys know everything about every move those skin heads make.”
“Aye,” Nix agrees, stepping to the edge of the plank to assist in the boat’s dock.
“You ready, Casey?” Clyde smirks turning to face me.
“Yeah, and don’t call me that.”
“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want. You want Kat, that makes you my bitch,” he states, following after Nix. I’m secretly hoping the damn dock caves, taking Clyde with it making him its bitch.
He wants a bitch? I’ll show him a bitch.
“You know my brother’s probably fucking her tight ass right now?” I say, strutting the dock, taunting the self-proclaimed bad ass. He freezes holding the rope that was tossed over the boat’s stern.
Ha! That got his attention. Even though it’s probably not true it could happen. Who could blame him? Kat she’s… that ass… fuck. I’ve seen the way Dalton looks at her; he’s attached himself to Kat. I like her too, but the fool falls in love way too fast.
Clyde faces me, rope still in hand. Nix tenses beside him waiting for a reaction from his President. “What?”
“You heard me. He’s had a… thing for her since he met her. Always trying to impress her, pouring his heart and soul out to her. She was eating it up the same way I was eating that sweet, sweet pussy.” I run my tongue over my lips for dramatic effect and a more… intense reaction.
I haven’t actually had any sexual interactions with her, but that doesn’t mean the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. I do have to say it pissed me off when Camden mentioned he was interested in her and how she flirted with him that night she was attacked at the bar. The thought of my brother being with her, though, doesn’t faze me. Weird.
“You fucking—”
“Stop!” Nix wraps his arm around Clyde, stopping his fevered advance on me. “We have business; he’s just fucking with you.”
I can’t help the sadistic smile toying with the corners of my mouth. This relationship’s going to be interesting. Not that he and I are… gonna be… ah hell.
“Erg,” Clyde growls, his red, heated skin poking through his tattoos inked on his neck. He wants to fuck me up so bad, but then two men appear on the boat’s deck, stopping him. And just like that… his second face appears.
“Come on,” one of them instructs, pointing to the door on its bow. We hop over the ledge and make our way inside. I can’t see much, all there is through here is a narrow, covered stairwell that leads to the wheelhouse. The metal stairs echo as we ascend the flight. The metal walls open into a spacious cozy area. White leather seats line the walls with a big black leather chair imbedded behind the boat’s controls. The floors are a white, mirrored polished tile, mimicking everything’s movements.
Should I take my boots off? I feel like this is one of those scenes in movies where the idiot gets his brains blown out for tracking dirt in. As I scan the room, three muscled and heavily armed African American men stand close to the wheel, stern-faced and all business.
“How’s it going, Mac?” Clyde extends his hand for the big man to take.
Mac doesn’t move a muscle, and the lack of emotion from this man makes me nervous. But instead of reaching for a weapon like I thought he would, because ya know, Clyde, he flashes a pearly white smile, embracing the Pres’s extended hand. “I’m good, man, how you been?”
“Good, it’s been a while.”
“Yeah, it has. You haven’t had any business? There haven’t been orders in months man.”
Clyde shifts his stance to a more relaxed one getting more comfortable, when they release hands. “Well, since the Athabaskan’s left Washington, yeah. It’s picked up some though, found a buyer in Vancouver.”
“Nice.” Mac smiles, looking at his men. They move to a Persian rug resting in front of the wheel, carefully rolling it away to reveal a hidden hatch on the floor. We stand behind them as they reveal the hidden treasures within. Guns. A lot of guns.
Mac crouches, reaching his big, diamond covered hands for one of the rifles. Hey, even a piece of shit like me can appreciate the fucking huge rocks on his fingers. He pulls out an ADS amphibious rifle. Not the best, the Russians designed them in 2007 but they weren’t produced until twenty thirteen. They were produced specifically for combat divers, so I’m not a hundred percent sure why Athabaskans in Canada would need this many, if any at all.
“Ah, these are nice,” Clyde compliments racking the chamber and dry firing the weapon.
“Yeah, hard to get too. Fucking Russians always wantin’ way more than their piece of shits are worth.” Mac chortles, shaking his head.
“Aye,” Nix agrees shaking his head, a strand of black hair falling in his face.
“All right,” Clyde says with a sigh, dropping the rifle back in its box. “Load em’ up, I’ll pay him.”
How the hell does he expect to fit all those on our bikes? I’m annoyed and slightly confused at this.
Before I can even ask Clyde pulls out his phone, his emerald eyes squinting to see the screen. “Van’s here.”
Mac’s guys pull crates from the hold and carry them down the stairs we came up. I wonder what he’s going to ask about The Power. I don’t have to wait long when Clyde bumps Mac with the back of his head, signaling me to move closer.
“This is my new guy Cass.” I hold out my hand for him to take. Mac looks at the gesture in disgust. Maybe he thinks I have cooties and is scared it’ll turn him personable. He looks back at Clyde, blowing out the breath. I give up, dropping my hand. “My old lady was attacked. Turns out The Power ordered the hit.”
Mac grunts crossing his arms over his massive chest. “Why would they fuck with you? Us maybe, but your club is all white folk. They usually only mess with people they deem race traders.”
“Old beef with her father when he was a member. He was killed two years ago because of it.”
I hope he’s not saying he took care of it.
Mac eyes Clyde suspiciously. “Fine, he was an undercover. I didn’t know it at the time man, he was a ride or die guy. I never even knew until a couple days ago.”
“But you’re still protecting the snitch’s daughter?” Mac looks shocked. Like, how could anyone do that? So, appalling. I internally roll my eyes and focus back on the conversation.
“You know what it’s like man, so don’t give me shit. If I recall correctly, you fell in love with the sheriff’s daughter, am I correct?”
Mac’s face falls caught red handed.
“What do you want me to do? Hmm? You know those white devils don’t tell nothin’ to people like me.”
“I want to know their every move, how they sleep, eat, and shit. I want to know it all.”
“All right, brother.” Mac fists bumps Clyde. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He pats my back and we head out.
Kat
I feel betrayed. My whole life has been one big fucking lie and everyone was in on it. Except they weren’t, they were just as clueless as I was. They had to be, otherwise Clyde’s dad and Clyde would have had him killed a long time ago.
Dalton watches me as I pace the room, wincing with every limp.
“You okay?” he asks sheepishly.
I side-eye him; he doesn’t even need to start with me. I wonder how much he knew.
“Am I okay? No, I’m not okay. My dad was an FBI agent, raised me around criminals and taught me to hate cops. Then, you guys come along, give me hope for something more than… this,” I wave my hand around, “just to befriend the man who has put me through hell for years. No, I’m not okay.”
I hobble over to the chair rubbing my sore throat. The pain meds are just now kicking in after almost an hour of waiting. “How much did you know, Dalton?”
“None of it.” He shrugs. “I don’t get into my brother’s business. The only reason he knows mine is because he’s had to bail me out of more than half of my situations. Other than that, nada.”
Thank god. I don’t think I could take it if my sweet D was the same as Cass and Clyde. What the hell am I talking about? Sweet D?
“Hey,” Dalton says, standing in front of me. He crouches down to my eye level. “Why don’t we get out of here? We’ll head out to Rainier, camp for the night, or a few nights if you want.”
I eye him warily. He’s serious. No, no, no, Clyde would kill us both. The different scenarios run through my head, but he wouldn’t even know where we are, no one would. Besides, Dalton can keep me safe, not that I need it. I look down at his hands, at the black and white petals of a beautiful flower permanently etched into his skin. He reaches for me. “Come on, you, me, the open road.”
Oh, good one. I can tell he’s done this before, wooing a girl to give him what he wants. But who wouldn’t? I mean, he’s fucking gorgeous.
“Okay.”
His face lights up with excitement and satisfaction. Yeah, I guess I’m that easy. When we come back we’re both dead, so might as well live it up. He pulls me to my feet, opening the door. He checks to make sure no one is lingering around before we make our escape. “All clear.”
I giggle at his James Bond moves. Get the girl, make an escape. I tap his shoulder and he peers over his at me. “Is this the part where you tuck and roll?”
He laughs a little too loud, and my hand shoots to his mouth instinctively. He looks down at me with longing.
Why is my hand wet? Oh, no he did not!
Jerking my hand away my jaw drops playfully. “Oh, that’s nasty. Do you know where my hands have been?”
“No, but I know where they can be.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me, chuckling at the same time he grabs my hand and tip toes down the hall.
He is a trip; this little adventure should be a blast.
Two and a half hours later we’re rolling through the gates of the National Park. The past few years the state has been building cabins around the perimeter, close to the entrance so they can keep an eye on their occupants. The campgrounds have grown in size as well to accommodate the influx of visitors during the busy times of the year.
Dalton pulls into the cabin grounds driving past the first line of them. The log exterior is impressive; you would think they cut down some of the trees from the preserve to build them. More than likely it’s just for aesthetic purposes. We park in front of cabin number ten, the last one in the first row. They are spaced apart, giving the residents plenty of privacy so no one is disturbed.
“Aren’t we supposed to pay or something?” I take in as much of the surroundings as possible in the dark. From what I can tell, the grass is plush with native flowers planted around the perimeter.
“Something like that.” He smiles, shoving the trucks gears into park. “Come on.” Dalton’s out first, rushing to my side of the truck to give me a hand.
Crickets chirp in the distance, a gentle breeze padding against my cheeks and the cold night Washington air are more than enough to get my ass out of the truck, pain or not.
Closing the door behind me we make our way up the stairs onto the porch. With his keys still in hand, he unlocks the door and opens it. When it swings wide into the darkness, Dalton reaches around the wall flipping a switch, bringing the living room to life with artificial sun.
“Wow, this is amazing.” At first glance I fall in love. The vaulted ceilings have cherry stained wood beams running its full length, the stairs to my right lead to an open loft at the top, and the tan carpet that is begging me to walk all over it looks as if it’s never been walked on. “Oh, I like this.”
Dalton huffs a laugh, closing the door behind us and locking it. “Make yourself at home,” he offers, hanging his keys on the ring, flipping every light in the house on.
“Is this your place?” I ask, striding over to the giant suede love seat positioned parallel from a seventy-inch flat screen, mounted on the wall. I’m in fucking heaven. As soon as my ass hits the cushion, I melt into the seat waiting for it to swallow me.
“Yeah, I bought it a few months ago. An older couple owned the property before me. When he died their kids stuck her in a home. I snatched it up before they fully moved her out,” he tells me as he rounds the corner. He’s holding two cans in his hand, one a diet coke, the other a beer. I more than willingly take the soda but eye the beer in his hand. He notices me staring. “I’m fine, Cass is dramatic. Drinking every now and then hasn’t been a problem.”
I nod, popping the top on the can, and take a sip. “This place is a dream. I like it.” My ass wiggles into the seat.
“I can tell.” He winks, sitting next to me. His leg rests against mine giving me the comfort I’ve been starving for. “Are you tired?” His voice comes out graver than I’m used to.
“No, not really,” I whisper, resting my head on his shoulder. Being next to him feels so fucking right. At this point I don’t care what he thinks or how he’s perceiving my actions. You only live once, and life is to damn short for regrets.
“Wanna watch a movie?” I nod against his shoulder. “We have, horror, action, romance, porn aaaaand more porn.”
“Porn.”
His head whips around, his eyes as wide as saucers. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, and he squints his blue eyes at me. “I’m fucking kidding! That is the last thing we both need right now.”
“Romance murder mystery it is,” he says, tossing the other options to the side. He didn’t even say that was an option but okay. I’ve had enough violence for a while.
Who knew putting in a DVD could be sexy? There is this small TV stand below the TV, it sits pretty low to the ground, forcing him to bend over and wait for the tray to pop out and as he does, I can’t help but stare at his shapely ass.
Boy never misses glute day.
My head tilts with his movements, he bends, my neck bends, he stands my neck straightens.
“Like what you see?” His words break my trance, I hadn’t even noticed he turned around! Busted.
“Huh?” Smooth, real smooth. He caught me red handed there’s no way to play that off.
He smiles with a twinkle in his eye. “It’s all good, look as much as you like.”
I smother my grin and he winks at me after sitting down, taking his place next to me. His arm stretches behind me, knowing I need the comfort he’s able to provide. My ear rest
s against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart and the feeling of his chest as it rises and falls.
Ten minutes into the movie I can feel myself drifting off from the rhythmic beating in his chest lulling me to sleep.
Glass shattering startles me awake, and I realize I’m still in the cabin. Dalton’s asleep beneath me, softly snoring away peacefully, the movie’s menu a low hum in the background.
Huh, D must have turned the lights off before he fell asleep. I don’t remember him moving me though.
I wait for my eyes to adjust before sitting up. Looking around the room everything appears the way it did when I dozed off.