by Katie Ashley
“Motherfucker,” Bishop muttered.
The knowledge of what Sigel intended sent jagged pain through my chest the same as if he were standing over me and stabbing me. The calculating bastard was fucking with me from a distance, just waiting until the time was right to strike. “If Sigel’s truly using Willow to get to me, it could be months, even a year, before he and the Knights come at us.” I glanced around the table at my brothers. “The more time that passes, the more I can get attached to Willow. Then the greater the revenge.”
“Sigel has never struck me as a patient guy. He bided enough time waiting to get to you when he was in jail,” Mac argued.
“But he didn’t know about Willow then,” I replied.
“I don’t think he intends to stop with her,” Rev said.
I jerked my chin in agreement. “No. I’m sure after what I did, he won’t be satisfied until he puts me in the ground.”
“These aren’t some racist upstarts anymore. My informant says that the Knights have been stockpiling weapons. To help the prosecutor, the Feds have been allowing the purchases,” Case said.
“So what do we do? Smoke them before they can smoke us?” Bishop questioned.
Mac shook his head. “With the Feds breathing down the Knights’ necks, we’d be offering ourselves up on a silver platter. Any way we could fuck them up is just going to fuck us over worse in the end.”
“If we’re supposed to be worried about the Feds, then that would mean the Knights would have to be, too. I don’t see Sigel giving two shits about jail time. When it comes to revenge, he’ll take the risk,” Boone argued.
“As long as Sigel breathes, both Willow and Deacon are in danger.” Surprisingly, it was Rev who’d spoken. The implication of his words was clear, which went against his usually nonviolent nature. But when it came to the lives of his brother and beloved niece, Rev wouldn’t hesitate to break a commandment.
Lacing my fingers behind my head, I countered, “While I’m inclined to agree with you, Rev, we can’t just play into his hand. He knows once word gets around that he’s out, I’ll be on edge, waiting for him to come after me for what I did to his son. He’s banking on the fact that Willow hasn’t talked or that I have no idea he’s tied to Lacey. He’s getting his rocks off on this little game he’s playing.”
We all glanced anxiously at Case, who continued stroking his beard in thought. “I say that for appearances, we play it cool—no going in after Sigel with guns blazing. But I want us to reach out to each and every one of our allies for added protection as well as any shit they can get us on the Knights. If we’re lucky, the Feds will take the fuckers out long before we have to act. Sigel is one conviction away from life. If the right side of the law can put him away, we’ll ensure he dies once he’s inside.”
“That addresses Sigel and the Knights, but what about Willow and Deacon?” Rev questioned.
I threw up one of my hands. “What about us?”
Ignoring me, Rev stared straight at Case. “I think Deacon should have an escort at all times he’s outside the compound.”
I groaned. “Come on, man. You’re acting like I’m a marked man.”
“You are,” he growled.
“With our cuts, we’re all marked men every moment of the day,” I countered.
Slamming his fist down on the table, Case barked, “That’s enough.” Rev and I both eased back in our chairs. “I agree with Rev. Until we can get a better handle on all this, you’re not to leave the compound without an escort.” Before I could protest, Case swept up his gavel and then banged it. “Meeting is adjourned.”
When I started to rise out of my chair, Case shook his head. “You stay.”
I knew the other guys were just as surprised as I was by his request. Reluctantly, I let my ass fall back in the seat. After the rest of the guys filed out of the room, I glanced expectantly at Case. “What’s eating at you now, Prez?”
“I’m worried about this teacher.”
My brows shot up in surprise. “With all the shit going on with the Knights, you’re thinking about her?” When Case nodded, I asked, “You worried for her or for the club’s safety?”
The flame from Case’s lighter illuminated his face as he lit his pipe. After taking a few puffs, he replied, “She’s an outsider.”
“Yes, I’m aware of her status,” I replied, digging in my pocket for my own smokes.
“Just having her here in the clubhouse or at your house is trouble waiting to happen.”
I hastily lit a cigarette. As I inhaled sharply, I let the sweet nicotine sting fill my senses. “She’s more trouble if we keep her out.”
“I know. That’s the only reason why I’m letting her in here. But my issue with her isn’t just the fact that she could bring CPS sniffing around in here.”
“What is it, then?”
He slid a manila folder over to me. “I had someone look into her background.”
“Is it that serious?” I asked, flipping the folder open.
“If you consider the fact her uncle is a retired state trooper.”
I grimaced as I glanced over the papers regarding Alexandra’s life. Of all the teachers I could have had snooping around, I had to have one who was tied to the law. And this uncle wasn’t just someone she saw on the holidays. He had become her guardian when she was seventeen and her parents died in a car accident.
“He’s a lifer here in town, and so is his wife. It won’t take long for him to put two and two together about who Alexandra is working for,” Case said.
“Did he ever put any heat on us when he was active?”
“No, he didn’t. He even collected toys from his fellow officers for our charity runs.”
I flipped the folder shut. “Then I don’t think he’s going to be an issue.”
“I hope not.” Case took a thoughtful drag on his pipe. “She’s a very beautiful woman.”
I snorted. “Better not let Kim hear you say that. She’ll have your balls on a platter.”
Case grinned at the mention of his possessive wife. While there was amusement in his eyes, he still pinned me with a hard look. “Beautiful women like Alexandra are trouble for a man like you, Deacon.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I demanded, stubbing my cigarette out in the ashtray.
“It means a woman like her can get under your skin. She’s smart, independent, and good-hearted. She loves your kid, and your kid loves her.”
“Jesus, Case, you sound like an old woman.”
“I’m trying to give you something to think about.”
“Trust me when I say that regardless of how ‘beautiful’ Miss Evans is, I’ll have no trouble keeping my dick in my pants around her.”
Case shook his head. “It’s not your dick I’m concerned about. It’s your head and your heart.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Jesus, man. When did you grow a fucking vagina and start talking out of your ass with head-and-heart bullshit? This is me we’re talking about, Case. Not Rev.”
“I am serious.”
“I don’t know what I should worry about more: Sigel or the fact that my club president thinks I’m going to let some white-bread piece of ass turn me soft.”
“All I’m saying is just be careful. And for fuck’s sake, don’t say or do anything to piss her off. We need her on our side.”
“Fine. Anything else?”
“She doesn’t go anywhere in the compound without someone watching her. She doesn’t need to be hunting for the john and accidentally stumble onto something she shouldn’t. Got it?”
“I’ll put the prospects on her.”
I rose from my chair and patted Case’s back on my way out of the room. I didn’t know any other way to put the man at ease. I mean, he had nothing to worry about with Miss Alexandra Evans. The woman was beautiful, yeah—for sure—but that little sweet-ass chick and I were never going to tumble in any sheets. I’d stay away for the same reasons I’d warned Bishop away. I was far less concerned
about her getting a rise out of my dick than I was about her making waves for the club.
As I made my way across the parking lot to my car, I couldn’t fight off the butterflies I felt in my stomach. I had never been apprehensive about doing a homebound job before. It didn’t take much to realize what it was about this job, or who it was, that made me anxious. While I might’ve been looking forward to working with Willow, I was most definitely not looking forward to seeing her father again. Sure, we had found some sort of middle ground a few days before, but David, or Deacon, didn’t impress me as the kind of man who stayed on an even keel. Our first meeting had been both physically and emotionally volatile. I could only imagine that it wouldn’t be long before we were coming to verbal blows again … maybe even physical ones—at least on his end.
Once I got to my car, I turned the radio to an upbeat song and tried desperately to ignore the voices of doubt in my head. Instead, I tried to focus on some of the visualization techniques my late mother had taught me. My father had jokingly called my mother “Mary Sunshine” for her ability to see the positive in even the hardest of situations. Instead of Deacon occupying my thoughts, I focused on Willow. She needed me, so I had to be strong for her.
When I pulled up outside the pawnshop, a nervous shudder ricocheted through my body at the sight of Deacon waiting on me. After quickly turning off the car, I grabbed my bag. With my eyes firmly on Deacon, I fumbled with the door handle for a few seconds before I was able to throw it open.
When I unceremoniously tripped on the uneven pavement, which sent me flying forward before I could right myself, the corners of Deacon’s lips turned up with a teasing lilt. “Glad I can amuse you,” I blurted before I could stop myself. I cringed as his dark eyes widened with surprise at my response.
“I’m glad to see you made it.”
Jerking my chin up, I countered¸ “I’m not late. I told you I wouldn’t be able to get here until three.”
“No, Miss Evans, you’re not late.” He flashed me a wide smile. “I’m just glad to see you.”
“You are?” I questioned, unable to hide my surprise. Was he implying what I thought he was? Was I going to have to set him straight that while flattered, we would only ever have a working relationship?
“Yeah. Willow’s been pestering the hell out of me all day about when you would get here.”
“Oh,” I murmured.
The shit-eating grin that stretched across Deacon’s face caused warmth to flood my cheeks. I stared down at the pavement, silently willing it to open up and swallow me and my embarrassment. Deacon’s finger on my chin caused me to jump. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me coming on to you, Miss Evans.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I murmured.
“But don’t think it’s because of something decent within my character. You’re not my type.”
I sputtered with indignation at his words. “That’s good to hear since you’re most certainly not my type either.”
Deacon merely grinned. “You know, Rev told me to tread easy when it came to you. He thinks you’re some delicate little flower I could crush. But he’s wrong.”
“Is that right?”
He nodded. “You’re a tough little thing when you have to be.”
“Life has done that to me,” I replied before I could stop myself.
“Doesn’t it to everyone?”
The tone of his words surprised me. I realized that within his statement there was insight into Deacon’s own character. I couldn’t help wondering what life had done to him. But I had the feeling I would come closer to unearthing a buried treasure in my backyard than learning Deacon’s secrets.
“I appreciate you meeting me today.” I stared pointedly at him. “I hope I’m not taking you away from your job.”
“No, you’re not.”
“What is it that you do exactly?”
Motioning his hand to the pawnshop, Deacon curled his lips into a smirk. “I would think my profession as an entrepreneur would be evident.”
“Yes, but it’s the type of businesses that you own that concerns me. After all, Ed Wigington, who owns the tire shop, doesn’t have to keep his son home from my class.”
“I co-own the pawnshop with my brothers along with Raiders Gym downtown.”
“That’s the one where boxers and MMA fighters train.”
“It is.”
From my uncle Jimmy, I knew a hell of a lot more went on there than just training. Allegedly, it was the legitimate front for gambling on fights. Deacon must’ve been reading my mind because he said, “No, Miss Evans, it’s not the type of place someone like you would frequent.”
“So you don’t deny the rumors that a lot of illegal stuff goes down there?”
With a teasing smile, he held up one hand. “I plead the Fifth.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“Would it be so surprising if I told you that most of the upstanding citizens of this town have tainted reputations?”
“I’m not concerned with anyone’s reputations other than yours at the moment and how that reputation affects Willow.”
Deacon surprised me by suddenly closing the gap between us. My breath fell in harsh pants as he loomed over me. I fought the urge to take a step back. He cocked his brows at me. “Are you insinuating that I’m involved in shady dealings?”
“Maybe.”
“I told you the other day not to stick your nose into my business.”
“I’m not.”
“Doesn’t seem like it to me.”
“I’m just concerned, that’s all. Somehow I can’t get it out of my mind that you’re like a modern-day Jesse James.”
Deacon’s dark eyes shone with amusement. “You think I’m an outlaw?”
Shaking my head, I countered, “Oh, I know you’re one.”
“Kinda makes you hot, doesn’t it?”
“Excuse me?” I demanded, taking a step back.
“Good girls always cream their panties over outlaws.”
“You flatter yourself. I’m certainly not”—I gulped—“creaming my panties over you.” Of course, the words were a blatant lie. The proximity of him, coupled with his words and his overpowering manly scent, caused moisture to dampen my panties. When he continued to stare at me like the Big Bad Wolf appraising his next meal, I shook my head. “I thought you said I didn’t have to worry about you coming on to me. Not your type, remember?”
With a wink, Deacon replied, “Maybe I lied. I’m not known for being very trustworthy when it comes to women.”
“Once again, that’s not surprising.”
“Although most of the girls down at the Lounge would give me glowing reviews.” He flashed me a grin. “That would be the gentleman’s club that my brothers and I own a stake in.”
Knowing that he expected a rise out of me at the mention of strippers, I merely replied, “Aren’t you the Donald Trump of Eastman?”
With a shake of his head, Deacon gave a bark of a laugh. “You know, I might actually be able to tolerate you, Miss Evans.”
“The feeling is mutual, Jesse James,” I replied.
He held open the clubhouse door for me. “Mmm, I love it when a chick gives me a nickname.”
Ignoring him, I headed inside. It momentarily felt like returning to the scene of the crime after our altercation from the other day. With the jukebox blaring a heavy metal tune in my ears, I surveyed the much smaller crowd. “Are you planning on me teaching Willow here?” I asked, trying not to sound horrified. I couldn’t imagine trying to teach phonetics over the music and the clanking of beer glasses.
Deacon laughed. “No, White-Bread. I don’t expect you to work in the middle of all this bullshit.”
“Thank you for being so considerate,” I replied tersely. I chose to ignore the fact he had once again called me white-bread.
“Actually, it was my mother’s idea. She thought it might be better if you guys had a place of your own to work. Some shit about making it se
em more like real school. She made us fix up one of the guest rooms.”
I bit back a smile at the words about his mother. It was amusing thinking of any woman barking out orders and him scurrying around to obey her. But I was sure if there was any woman who could bark orders at Deacon, Beth Malloy was that woman, and I admired the hell out of her for it. “That should be fine.”
Across the room from us, Willow sat at one of the round tables. She was swathed in a frilly pink boa, and a glittery pink tiara sat on her head. Seated with her were two young men in their late teens or early twenties who wore cuts similar to Deacon’s. The table was set for a tea party. What caused me to do a double take was the fact that the two men also sported boas and tiaras. When they met my gaze, they both appeared to be in the seventh ring of hell.
Deacon chuckled at what must have been my bewildered expression. “They’re prospects for the club, so they have to do whatever we order them to do.”
“And today’s order of business was a tea party?”
With a shrug, Deacon replied, “Willow wanted one.”
Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I eyed him. “But why aren’t you playing with her?”
He shot me a look of absolute disbelief. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Because she’s your daughter. Fathers often play with their daughters.”
Deacon shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I wouldn’t even begin to know how to play with her.”
“And you think those poor guys do?”
At that moment, Willow bounded over to us. “Miss Alex!” she squealed before throwing her arms around my waist. Mine and Deacon’s conversation was forgotten with Willow’s enthusiastic greeting.
“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?” I asked as I squeezed her back.
“Good. I’ve been waiting all day to see you. I finished all the work you left me.”
“You did?” I asked with surprise. While some of the worksheets were review activities of what we had been doing, I’d never expected her to finish so fast.
“Uh-huh. I’ll go get them.”