Unruly Defender

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Unruly Defender Page 12

by Schmidt, Esther E.


  I can’t wrap my head around the fact someone wouldn’t twist his hand about killing his own father. Over money? Or was Rush deep into something bigger he couldn’t get out of? Fuck. It’s driving me insane.

  “What was it about me and Eddie that made you check the safe?” Gracy questions.

  My mother’s face turns to my old lady and she gives her a warm, but sad smile. “You two reminded me of William and myself. When Eddie told me he was going to claim you as his old lady it made me want to hold the leather property cut William gave me when I became his old lady. It was in the safe. We put it there many years ago because I didn’t have to wear it. In the years of our relationship where he was building up the club I did. It has a patch on the back that says ‘Property of Barhamer.’ Wearing it made everyone aware who I belonged to, who protected me. Through the years everyone knew and respected me and it made wearing it unnecessary. I wanted to preserve it.” Her eyes trail off into the distance and I know her thoughts are with my father.

  “I would love to see it,” Gracy says, her voice filled with emotion.

  My mother’s head turns in her direction and she reaches out to stroke Gracy’s cheek. “I wanted to give the cut to Eddie so he could give it to you. But when I took it out of the safe, I noticed the envelope lying underneath it.”

  “I’m going to make everything right,” I vow fiercely. “All you need to worry about is getting your strength back so you can enjoy sitting on the patio while watching the waves of the sea caress the beach. Remember the mornings and nights you and dad would spend together.”

  That’s one thing my father did and never let anything or anyone influence that time of day. My mother gives me a radiant smile as she repeats the words my dad used to say. “Sunsets and sunrises are there to remind you of time passed and time to come, a solid promise of life and how the world keeps turning.”

  “A life shared together and hold strong to embrace a new day,” I croak, words my mother used to say to my father in return.

  A lone tear slides over her cheek. “Promise me one thing, Eddie.”

  “Anything,” I tell her, my voice a strong promise.

  “Don’t make the same mistakes your father made. Even if you think you’re protecting the ones you love, don’t. He never shared club information with me, but in return I never asked. But looking back now...I would have rather carried some of the burdens with him because in the end he thought he needed to take everything on himself. Maybe I’m taking this the wrong way, and with Rush’s father involved and Nicolaus being his VP and everything, maybe William felt like he couldn’t trust anyone, but I dread this is what got him killed. Gracy is right here, Eddie, and she’s strong. She’s been there for me every day since I met her. Don’t shut her out, don’t shut anyone out and think you can handle everything by yourself.”

  Through all this turmoil of emotions I feel like I need to lighten the mood. My mother needs it more than anything. This leads me to quip, “I don’t need the sales pitch, Ma. I already claimed her and I intend to keep her; sunsets, sunrise, and everything in between while this world keeps on spinning.”

  Fuck. The way her eyes start to water makes me doubt if this was the right thing to say.

  She turns her head to Gracy. “I would like to have grandchildren very soon.”

  “Ma!” I snap.

  My mother chuckles vindictively and says, “It was worth a try to speed things up with me lying in here. I’m not dead yet, son. But, like I said, I would like to have some grandchildren. Embrace what you have. Fully embrace, Eddie.”

  I understand her underlying tone. And I know she’s right and I have been trusting Gracy from the start, even more than others. I’ve even shared about the papers. We all learn from our mistakes and this is too big to handle for only one person.

  I reach out and take Gracy’s hand. “I am, believe me, I am.”

  Gracy gives me a shy smile and now even her eyes are filling with tears. Shit. We need to get out of here before mine start to water.

  “Ma, I need to go handle things now. I’m putting a prospect in the hallway to keep an eye on you. If there’s anything, holler, okay? We’ll come by tomorrow to pick you up so don’t start to hit on any sexy doctors because come morning, we’re busting you out of here.”

  She smacks my upper arm but grabs it right after and gives a slight pull. Knowing what she wants I lean in and give her a hug.

  “Take my cut from the safe and give it to your old lady, let everyone see who she belongs to.”

  “Will do, Ma,” I tell her, and give her an extra squeeze and a kiss on her forehead.

  I take a step back and let my mother hug Gracy. They exchange some hushed words before we leave the room. Yates comes with us while Ash stays behind to keep watch.

  I don’t expect anyone to come after my mother, but I’m not taking any chances. The three of us head for the clubhouse A black limo is parked in front and when we drive up to the gate and Yates punches in the code, I can see Clemente is sitting in the limo when he slides down the window. He drives up behind us and when Gracy and I get out of the car, he walks up and gives Gracy a hug.

  I know they’re family but it bugs me to see Gracy in any other man’s arms. Crazy and unnecessary but it’s just the way my mind works.

  “We need to talk,” I grunt.

  Clemente steps back but stays close to Gracy. “Do you want to discuss everything inside? Or in the checked and safe surroundings of my limo?” Clemente says.

  Remembering my mother mentioning the video that caught Rush swapping papers reminds me of technology. Normally I wouldn’t think twice about these things but what if someone is listening in on things? Doesn’t have to be Rush but Clemente mentioned how there were eyes on Rush and maybe there’s a chance we have a rat in the MC, an undercover cop, or a bug planted in church.

  Dammit, I have to stop doubting everyone and everything. Even my mother told me not to make the same mistake my father made.

  This makes me state, “Limo. But I need Gracy in there too, along with Yates.” I turn my attention to my VP. “Yates, give me two names of brothers you would trust blindly.”

  He’s been around this MC when I wasn’t and knows what we’re up against and what happened in the past. All of this makes him the perfect man to know who we can trust to discuss a plan of action.

  “Rooney and Rhett,” Yates replies instantly.

  And that’s just it. No questions whatsoever why I’m asking or what needs to be done, a solid reply without thinking twice.

  “Get them. And let the others know we’ll be right there to have a meeting with everyone, okay?” Yates nods at my words and heads into the clubhouse.

  It doesn’t take long for him to return with Rooney and Rhett. All of us get inside the limo.

  Rhett whistles low. “Dude, all that’s missing is the pink lights in the roof and you’d have a pimpmobile.”

  The all black leather interior and the minibar in front of the large couch does give the impression a few people can have quite the party in here.

  “Shut your mouth, imbecile,” Clemente grunts. “A simple pimp couldn’t afford this bulletproof vehicle. And there’s no way I’d pay women to step inside my limousine.”

  “Well, excuuuuuuse me,” Rhett whispers underneath his breath.

  Clemente gives him a glare and connects his eyes with me. “This is how you want to do this?”

  It’s not hard to miss the undertone. He doesn’t like me bringing in others to discuss this. Though, I’m the one in charge. Besides, “I’d rather not do this at all but I see no other way around it.”

  Gracy places her hand over my thigh and I cover it with mine. Clemente eyes the movement and I know deep down he’s still not happy Gracy and I are together.

  Without taking the papers out of the pocket of my leather cut, I voice the words, “I have evidence Rush is the one who set me up to rot in jail. And with it a video too, all of it implies he’s also responsible for the death of his fa
ther and mine.”

  There’s only silence ringing loud. I know Rhett and Rooney know about the accident my father and Rush’s father were involved in and they also know I went to jail for brazen fraud.

  “The mall project. Rush put it all in my name when he knew it went to shit. I suspect Rush never expected my father and his to find out about what he was doing. Seeing Rush’s job was handling the administration parts and no one checked what he did. And for fucking real, how did he ever think to get away with scamming investors out of their money? We’re talking about hundreds of thousands here. He forged the papers and made it seem I was the one behind everything. Long story short, I have the original documents along with the ones Rush exchanged them with so the money all went into his back account. He changed them again when it went to shit and we all know they’re in my file as the so-called evidence that got me convicted. Because that fucker put my name on it.”

  I shake my head because even for me all of this sounds confusing so, I add, “In the end there were three versions of the contract but there was only one others knew about. The original one, which was never used, the one with Rush’s bank account, and the one that got me convicted. I now own all of them and to make it all complete, there are also a few handwritten notes from my father along with a video. This video shows Rush opening the safe and clearly swapping files, everything points to Rush. Except,” I rub a hand over my face and release a deep breath. “For the life of me I can’t figure out the motive. What would he need all that money for? He was like me, involved in our father’s construction company. Rush had a damn desk job and was making good cash. I know he lived royally and where I invested my money—and was very lucky to be successful with it—he spent it on women and snorting blow but this? I don’t get it. And turning everything in won’t give me justice for the death of my father or the years I spent behind bars. My gut is telling me this is bigger and I can’t wrap my mind around it. I’m missing something and it might all blow back in my face, but...I need clear eyes, ears, and a sane mind to help me take the next step.”

  More silence greets me until Clemente leans in and places his forearms on his knees. “The day your father died happened about a week before you went to jail? How long ago was that? About two, two and a half years ago, right? I looked into your case; after you were arrested, the money was returned. You made sure of it by selling some of your property. Even if you didn’t do it, and never pleaded guilty. Still, you were convicted of felony embezzlement...brazen fraud. The judge might have made an example out of you because of previous embezzlement cases in the months prior by others who were indeed guilty.”

  I nod slowly. “Rush was also screwing my lawyer, making me feel like the bitch didn’t do anything to plead my case and instead got me a higher sentence, even if I changed lawyers. There were several complications. It didn’t matter if it was my first offense and the money and bank account was never linked with me, hell...they didn’t even exist. Like you said, the judge might have made an example out of me, but it didn’t help my case when I punched Rush in the face in front of the courthouse. Everything about my case has been one fuckup. I should be happy I only got the few years along with a reduced sentence because I could have killed that fucker with my bare hands if they gave me a chance.”

  “I might know Rush’s motive for needing a load of cash,” Clemente says and his gaze slides from me to Gracy. “Something happened a few years ago. The timeline...it fits.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  — GRACY —

  Clemente mentions the timeline and it makes me gasp. “That’s around the time we met. When your father came back and ran into my mother.”

  Clemente rubs his fingers over his lips as if he’s thinking things through. “What if your mother and my father reconnecting made a wave in your mother’s marriage?”

  “She was separated from my father a few weeks after they met. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, I mean...they were always fighting so my first thought was ‘finally!’ But what if Rush did work with Spencer and they both forged the papers because they needed the money? Money Spencer needed for himself because my mother left him. Or maybe he invested with Rush and needed it back because my mother found out he took her money? Because I know for a fact my grandfather made sure everything stayed in my mother’s name.”

  “My lawyers were able to get their hands on the papers that were filed to refuse your inheritance. They had them checked and the report stated they were forged.” Clemente gives his attention to Eddie. “I’m guessing if we put the papers you’re talking about right next to them...maybe they were forged by the same one. Wait. I suddenly remember something. It might be nothing but it’s too much of a coincidence.” Clemente reaches for his phone and starts to type. “Here.”

  He turns his phone and both me and Eddie lean in to see a news article about a huge drug bust in one of the nearby ports.

  “I checked into Spencer’s background and saw he used to be the CEO of a freight and shipping company.” Clemente continues, “What if he used to get a golden handshake every now and then to look the other way when it involved certain ships? They could have been working together for a while. And what if they owed a cartel cash for a deal gone wrong?”

  “It’s like tiny pieces of a puzzle,” I mumble to myself. “And if this is true, it’s connected to all of us. Crossed paths even before we met. But it also means this isn’t as simple as turning in the evidence, Eddie. What if Clemente is right and years ago those drugs that were taken were meant for Rush? Has he paid them off by using the investors’ money? Those funds were never retrieved because he faked the bank account he put in your name, right?”

  “There was no money,” Eddie grunts. “I thought I could escape jail time if I paid off the few investors who had proof they transferred the money. But those funds were transferred to a Swiss bank account, it didn’t match the one on the contract. Like I said, there was a lot wrong with my case.”

  “You were lucky you only spent a few years on the inside and had a reduction in sentence, man. Fuck,” Yates grunts.

  “Every month Rush drops off a package. I’ve walked into him putting cash into a leather bag and he either drops it off himself or lets Banjo or Maxton drop it off,” Rhett suddenly says. “Is he still paying it off or getting drugs in small portions? I know he was about to drag the whole MC into his business but he never made a secret of his selling drugs on the side, so I never questioned his activity as long as he didn’t pull any of us in along with it. But from what I heard Banjo mention a few times when he was drunk off his ass is that Rush only has three big clients and he basically just makes sure he gets the drugs off the boat and transports them to those three and swaps the money. Then the money needs to be dropped off. They make it sound easy and risk free but we all know that shit isn’t.”

  “It’s a sales pitch,” Clemente tells him. “I don’t think Banjo was drunk when he shared that piece of information with you. Nor did you accidentally walk in on seeing Rush with a pile of cash. It sounds more like a way to buy souls. Make you interested in an easy way to earn big cash fast. Gracy, I believe your family owns or co-owns one of the major ports in California, right? And when you think about Spencer who used to be the CEO of a freight and shipping company...there’s a link between all of it all right. I’m sure my father will have more information about what goes on in those ports. I have to talk to him after we’re done here and explain everything, he might have more insight with the connections he has. He might also know who Rush is dealing with and if I do, I will put an end to it.”

  “Can you do that?” I gasp. “Go to a drug dealer or a cartel for that matter...that’s what they call these things, right? I mean, those things are huge, and you’re saying you can just...shoo them away? I know I make it sound easy but it really sounds unrealistic, all of it.”

  “It’s complicated and it will take some meetings with the right people but it’s all about having the necessary contacts and power.” Clemente
gives her a satisfied grin. “Power comes with order; my family has earned this and is respected. When my father moved to Italy, my uncle took over and when we returned, my uncle retired and it was my time to take over but that shouldn’t have happened the way it did. My father would have been in charge for a few more years while I was at his side. But with the death of your mother...your mother. Her death was ruled a suicide, right?”

  I swallow hard and can only nod. Even if it’s been almost nine months, her sudden death still hits me hard every time I think about it.

  “I think it’s time I had a little chat with Spencer,” Clemente suddenly says and locks eyes with Eddie. “I’m not liking the way this deepens and crosses lives and paths.”

  “When? ’Cause I want in,” Eddie says and there’s a look in his eyes I can’t place.

  My gaze ping pongs between Clemente and Eddie because I don’t understand their reasoning. “Aren’t we supposed to leave Spencer to the police? I mean, the whole thing with him forging my signature and filing something I didn’t...that’s fraud and will put him behind bars, right?”

  Clemente’s face stays the same, not one twitch different, but when I glance at Eddie there’s sadness and...pity? For me? Why? And when did this discussion go from my mother to Spencer?

  A jolt of awareness fires through my veins making me gasp, “No. You’re thinking Spencer killed my mother?”

  Oh. My. God. And the worst is...it actually makes more sense than my mother killing herself because she was clearly happier when they separated and she moved out of Spencer’s house.

  Eddie wraps his arm around my waist and plasters me against his body. His lips are touching my temple in a tender kiss. “One thing at a time, darlin’, one thing at a time.”

  I lean into his touch to search his strength in all of this. Clemente is holding his phone as if he just contacted someone or is about to but he’s watching us instead.

 

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