Eating Asphalt (Sacred Hearts MC Pacific Northwest Book 5)

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Eating Asphalt (Sacred Hearts MC Pacific Northwest Book 5) Page 21

by A. J. Downey


  “Hand it here,” he said and took it from the prospect who leaned in the door and held it out.

  “What’s up?” he asked by way of answering and a few seconds later his brow crashed down into one stormy fucking frown.

  “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” he demanded.

  We all waited, and he finally said, “Put her on the phone…”

  27

  Cadence…

  I was nervous, all of us quieting down from the excited cheerful chatter we’d maintained all the way north as I made the turn into the drive of the Smuggler’s Inn. A subdued hush fell over the car, Kestrel, Aspen, and Raven quieting. Dahlia and Marisol pulled in right behind us. I put my car into park and pulled the handbrake and we all just sort of sat, staring at the front door of the working bed-and-breakfast.

  “Well,” Aspen said. “Are we sure we’re ready for this?”

  “I can’t lose D.T., so absolutely,” Kestrel said.

  “Same,” Raven declared with a sniff.

  “Smiles on, ladies,” I said and plastered one on my face.

  “Right, they could be watching.” Aspen nodded. We opened our doors, got out of my small SUV, and squealed with delight, rushing to Dahlia and Marisol – everyone trading excited hugs and so much chatter about inane lady things – hair, makeup, how we were going to make the absolute most of this weekend.

  All in the guise of one wickedly wonderful bridal party which was only half a lie. We were planning a wedding. Kestrel’s. Even though Dump Truck had yet to propose, we knew it was on the horizon, especially with the baby on the way. Aspen had it on good authority; Fenris had caught him looking at rings.

  We all made a great show of unloading our very heavy excessive luggage, just like we planned and piled in the open door of the grand old house, the owner, a kindly older man by the name of Manny holding it open for us as we ‘lugged’ our empty luggage sets through the door.

  Nothing to see here, just a group of flighty women who classically overpacked for an overnight trip.

  We were careful inside, too. This place was still a working bed-and-breakfast and there was no telling, Dahlia had said, that the law enforcement agencies in play hadn’t bugged the place, having gone undercover as a previous guest or set of guests.

  Manny greeted us warmly, none the wiser that we were here to save the proverbial day. My level of paranoia was through the roof thanks to Dahlia and Marisol, but they had impressed upon the lot of us that it wasn’t paranoia if they really were out to get you, which while they weren’t out to get us, they certainly were out to get our boys which was why we were doing this insanity in the first place.

  We played our parts, and Manny was none the wiser, right up until Dahlia handed him the sheaf of papers that we had written up, explaining why we were here and how this was going to play.

  If we were lucky, I thought to myself.

  “What’s this?” Manny asked.

  With a wink Dahlia said, “We wanted to tip up front for putting up with our asses, and we heard you had a fabulous wine cellar so there’s some extra in there for a chance to raid it.”

  In the papers was a ‘wine’ key, different varietals and vintages to their prescription drug counterparts so we could get everything out and we did mean everything.

  Manny was reading and for the time that he was silently skimming the first few pages of explanation, we were hoping he would play it off as speechless.

  He looked up and said, “We’re safe to talk. I’ve swept the inn for listening devices and cameras thoroughly. I do after every guest leaves.”

  I think we all sagged with relief. “You’re sure?” Marisol asked with apprehension and Manny nodded.

  “You can check with Mav, he doesn’t know we’re here.” Dahlia pitched her voice low a barely audible almost hum, not quite a whisper. I didn’t know how she did it.

  He looked at us all in turn and his eyes held suspicion. He nodded reluctantly and said, “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll do just that.”

  “By all means,” Raven said.

  “We absolutely prefer that you do,” I added.

  “You’re taking a wild risk,” he said.

  “So are we, talking so frankly. They might be sitting outside with a parabolic microphone or something,” Dahlia said in that weird almost subvocalization. “Make your call and see for us please?” she asked pleasantly at a normal tone.

  “What was that?” I whispered, and she smiled brilliantly at me, her expression saying ‘shut the fuck up, Cadence.’ I wisely, shut the fuck up.

  Manny left the room, and we could barely hear the subdued buzz of his end of the conversation from the den or office he had stepped into. He came out after a time and nodded, saying, “Your credit is good, and we do have that particular vintage, but I would be very curious to know how you heard about it.”

  We all traded looks and watched some of the tension leave our backs and shoulders.

  “Well, ladies,” Dahlia drawled, smiling her brilliant if fake smile, an edge of deviousness to it. “Let’s get lit.”

  We all laughed, nervously to my ears, and Manny, looking somewhat relieved, said, “Right this way, mind your step, the stairs leading to the wine cellar are pitched steep and one or two are loose.”

  We followed him into the basement, which was where my architectural mind started to pick out details of the old building and it was old. Extremely so, maybe one of the oldest buildings in the area.

  The basement walls weren’t even brick, but rounded river stones stacked and mortared into place, some of them clearly coming loose, some areas of the basement having been reinforced with brick sections in years past. A mishmash and hodgepodge of fixes from the old building’s past to ensure it had a future.

  Despite the, by all appearances, cracker-jacked together basement walls, the foundation was solid ensuring the building above’s survival for years and years to come.

  There was more than a wine cellar down here, which the wine cellar was indeed respectable, tucked back in the nook behind and below the basement stairs. What caught my eye, though, were the extra fridges at the back of the basement and the extra freezers lining the walls.

  We set down our big suitcases, three in all, and had left our likewise empty carryon suitcases upstairs – there were five of those. We all carried big purses, and light clothing hidden in those. Silk or satin shirts, a change of underwear, stuff that would fit in with our wallets and keys, and little else.

  Enough to make a good showing of coming out of the inn in a different outfit than what we had entered in.

  Manny gestured for us to leave our suitcases and actually went through the wines under the stairs while we selected a couple of bottles.

  “There are some fine things to do here in Blaine,” he said when we returned upstairs. “I sure do hope you enjoy your stay.”

  “We certainly will!” Dahlia declared and Manny led us to a sitting room where we made ourselves comfortable while he opened and poured us all a glass of wine.

  “A soda or something for me, if you don’t mind,” Kestrel said, laying a hand on her still flat stomach.

  “Ahhhh, congratulations!” Manny declared, and we all laughed and smiled. He did go fetch her a soda. When he came back, he handed Dahlia a piece of paper. She passed it around.

  Leave your empty cases where they are, it will take them all. I will spend the night loading them with everything and help you out with them in the morning.

  You have no idea what this means to me. I hope your men feel the same.

  It worried me that he worried for us, and we all traded looks.

  “I know we all said we would keep our phones turned off for this girls’ weekend,” Aspen said nervously. “But you don’t even know how much I want to check my text messages.”

  Dahlia laughed and said, “We all agreed! No cheating.”

  “No cheating,” Marisol said and held out her wineglass.

  “I’m with Aspen, but I agree. This weekend
is all about Kestrel and our phones can wait.”

  “So,” Raven said with a wink. “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue… Ideas?”

  “I think a trip to the antique stores around here is in order,” I said. “We could conceivably take care of all of those things with one purchase.”

  “Wait, how can you take care of all of those things with one buy?” Aspen asked laughing.

  “Well, if I buy something old from the antique shop that is blue, it’s new to me, and then I lend it to Kestrel for her wedding…”

  “That feels like cheating,” Marisol said with a laugh.

  “That sounds like a damn fine loophole,” Dahlia said also laughing. With as much as our nerves buzzed with anxiety, we threw ourselves into planning the wedding of Kestrel’s dreams, asking questions and figuring out colors, daydreaming and talking venues all of which was a bit trying for Kestrel, Aspen, and I… all having been married once before and yikes betrayed by those men. As Marc would say, all three of our ex-husbands needed to be yeeted into the sun…

  For me and Kestrel, that sort of had already happened, for Aspen, she still had to deal with her ex from time to time, which surprised Dahlia and Marisol, both of them seemingly having a deeper grasp of Fenris than even Aspen. Although they didn’t outright say anything, I saw the traded looks and caught the whispered exchanges when behind or away from Aspen.

  I didn’t know if I liked that. It bothered me, maybe even triggered me to a degree, given my own past.

  I reserved judgment for now, but it bothered me deep down. I liked Aspen; I liked her a lot. She and I had a lot in common to the point we were rooming together for this trip.

  It was when we shut the door to that room, we both let out pent-up breaths we didn’t know we’d been holding. We looked at each other and laughed nervously.

  “Do you really think they’re out there listening?” she asked carefully, almost whispering.

  I shook my head. “Watching, maybe, but it’s still probably a good idea to just not talk just in case.”

  She nodded and sighed. “When I got together with my man, I made the decision to accept him but at the same time, I also made the decision that I just didn’t want to know, you know?”

  I smiled, the final piece falling into place and relief flooding me. Dahlia and Marisol weren’t talking behind Aspen’s back – they were respecting her wishes.

  That was a big weight off my shoulders.

  “I mean, the men don’t involve us anyway, but Mar and Dahlia are right – you always know. Things overheard, and it’s our part enough to remain ignorant. Sometimes that’s hard, you know?”

  I nodded and said, “I hate it. After what happened with Ben, you know? I feel like I would rather know… you know?”

  She sat down on the edge of her bed and nodded.

  “We’re different in that regard, I guess. I feel like ignorance is bliss. I mean, look at us right now!” she kept her voice low, and I nodded and smiled.

  “Hopefully this is a onetime deal.”

  “Think they’re going to be mad?” she asked and winced slightly.

  “Probably.” I nodded and sighed. “But they’re just going to have to get over it.”

  “I hope this works,” she breathed, and I nodded.

  “Me too.” I mean, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. While I felt as though I had lost everything when it had come to Ben and finding out the truth, nothing could honestly be further from the truth, you know? I had so much more to lose. So much.

  I cheated. I turned on my phone while Aspen was in the bathroom to check for messages from Marc. He had checked in like he was supposed to, and I texted him back really quick, but it was the text from Jared that worried me.

  Jared: Just what the fuck are you playing at? We’re talking as soon as you get your ass back here.

  Well, I guess that answered the question of if the boys were mad or not.

  I sighed, an all-new set of worries gnawing at my gut.

  I pursed my lips and turned off my phone, stashing it back in my purse before Aspen returned.

  I don’t think I slept a wink that night and honestly? I wasn’t a teen or in my twenties anymore. Driving home was going to be brutal.

  The next morning, our bags were packed and waiting. They were heavy, but not overly so, and we were changed and ready to go.

  Manny served us breakfast, as this was a bed-and-breakfast, and my stomach really wasn’t having any of it. I ate, but I was so nervous I think it went right through me. I ended up in the bathroom a couple of times before we left. Thankfully, everything stayed down, I just wished it didn’t decide to stay so down that out followed.

  Curse my nervous bowels, I thought as I came out of the bathroom for the second time.

  “You alright?” Kestrel asked nervously, and I nodded and smiled.

  “Just my body acting up,” I said embarrassed.

  “Happens to the best of us,” Raven declared, bringing up the handle on one of the rolling carryons.

  We’d made a great show of discussing and oohing and ahhing over fictional dresses the night before and discussing Dahlia’s hookup at the bridal store, making it seem like we had been trying on different styles of bridesmaids dresses the night before and complaining about every sample dress size being an unrealistic diminutive size for us real women.

  It felt ridiculous, but the wine had helped smooth the way, and if we got out of here without incident and without being stopped on the way south, it would have been worth it.

  Aspen and I traded looks and I think both of us were sweating. We had discussed what we had discussed the night before and now? This morning? Back in the company of Dahlia and Marisol and the rest, it felt like a bit of a folly.

  Please let me be right and let no one have been listening, I prayed as Manny shut the back hatch of my SUV with the majority of the drugs inside and held out his hand beaming.

  “It was a pleasure having you ladies at the Smuggler’s Inn,” he said, and Kestrel hugged him.

  “I am absolutely going to suggest it to my fiancé as a honeymoon destination,” she said. “Thank you so much!”

  “Of course, my dear. I hope you choose us,” he said, beaming up at the old mansion.

  “God, I’m going to miss you!” Dahlia declared hugging me tight. I laughed, a little startled, and played it up, hugging first her and then Marisol. I said, “We’ll see each other before you know it!”

  We all exchanged hugs like girlfriends saying a longer-than-average goodbye, even though we were heading pretty much right back down to my place.

  I white knuckled that entire drive back south to my house, glancing in my rearview every couple of miles, looking for state patrol behind me, or county sheriff’s office. Or worse, an unmarked black SUV with government plates, I thought to myself more than once.

  I wasn’t the only one.

  Kestrel, Raven, and Aspen were just as subdued, just as nervous.

  When we crossed back into King County with still over an hour to go until home, Raven let out a pent-up breath and said, “This is a onetime deal. I swear to God. I deal with enough adrenaline where these guys are concerned, I really don’t need to add to it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, a little alarmed.

  “In for a penny, in for a pound,” Aspen said shrugging, and looking unhappy beside me in the passenger seat.

  “We try to respect it when someone says they don’t want to know,” Raven said leaning forward. “But since Aspen has all but given me the go-ahead, I serve as the club’s de facto doctor or medical personnel. Little things like patching them up when they get in a scrap.”

  Kestrel snorted. “More than little things,” she said. “She saved Tic a couple years ago when he got stabbed by some idiot cranked up to the nth degree.”

  “What?” I asked alarmed, thinking about Jared.

  “It only happened once,” Raven said, rolling her eyes.

  I
glanced at Aspen who looked like I felt, nervous and worried; likely thinking about Fenris.

  “Okay, let’s not talk about anymore,” I said, letting out a deep cleansing breath, my hands making an almost ratcheting sound as I gripped the wheel and nervously twisted it in my hands as though it was the throttle on one of the men’s bikes. As though it would or could make the car go faster, even though I kept the speed steady at just a couple of miles per hour over the speed limit.

  Dahlia had cautioned me not to go so fast as to get myself pulled over, but likewise she had cautioned against going exactly the speed limit or under it by any margin as that was almost more suspicious.

  She’d also cautioned me that if we were pulled over to be polite, ‘yes officer, no officer, I’m sorry officer,’ and what to do or say if they wanted to search the car which she said wasn’t likely at all.

  “If it goes that far,” she said, “They already know. You keep your mouth shut and if they ask you anything, the answer is ‘I don’t answer questions’ or ‘I want my lawyer.’”

  It hadn’t been comforting, and my mouth was dryer than the Sahara as I pulled down the alley that ran behind my house, my heart sinking at the shiny black and chrome motorcycle parked at the end of that alley, and the stormy look Jared cast in my direction as he turned a wrench in the guts of what was his engine.

  I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but from his text last night? I knew why he was here.

  “Shit,” Raven muttered.

  “We won’t leave unless you want us to,” Aspen said, and I pursed my lips. I pulled onto my back lawn off to the side of my driveway so Aspen could back out and take the rest of the girls.

  “Just get this stuff into the storage unit and let me handle him,” I said, and Raven nodded in my rearview grimly.

  “Okay,” Kestrel said faintly, and she sounded scared for me. I handed Aspen the key to the unit and taking a deep breath, I tried not to be scared too.

 

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