by Porter, Cat
She slumped back against the bed and covered her eyes with an arm. She was worried about her brother on the run and in danger. The family business bleeding. She was mourning our baby, her father.
“Find him, Wreck. Please, find him before anybody else does.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“I need you to find Leo,” I said.
“You’d think he’d surface since his dad died,” said Jake.
“That’s the point. He might have had something to do with that.”
“Ah, fuck, really?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure he’s responsible, but with the Seeds out there hunting him down, the cops wanting to question him, Isi all freaked out about whatever the fuck he’s up to … I need to contain him and find out what he knows, what his deal is. And since you’ve seen him and are able to speak Leo—”
“I’m on it. And Boner’s real good at tracking people and their shit down.”
Boner lifted his chin. “We’ll find him.”
“Listen, make sure he knows he’s not in trouble, that Isi’s worried about him,” I said. “We’ll bring her to him, so he can pick a neutral site himself, and that way we minimize his potential freak out. We don’t want him to feel threatened. Do not let him come to the funeral—everyone will be waiting for him there.”
“Got it.”
The two of them hopped on their bikes and ripped out of the lot. I headed to pick up Isi from her house for the funeral. At the church, all the Jacks were in attendance for my woman, for a family that was a cornerstone of Meager. At the cemetery, I stood behind Isi who sat in a long row of Dillons and Drakes who were her family. Ryan and his parents, Stacey and Walt. Walt was now the only Dillon brother left who had inherited small town businesses from their daddy and grandpa. Now the go-kart factory was extinct, the general store was teetering, and only Walt’s feed store hung on.
The whole town had turned out. Her face pale and bare of any makeup, Isi wore a long black dress. There was something too severe about it, it drowned her. I stared at the large family tombstone in front of me. Marianne, Isi’s mom, and James, her brother, both cut down way too soon. And now they’d be carving David in that slab of stone.
The pastor finished his speech, and people migrated toward the open grave where the casket lay. Flowers were thrown. I put a hand to Isi’s back as I slid beside her, and her Uncle Walt shot me a glare. Ryan met my gaze and raised his chin. Georgia offered me a weak smile.
Willy moved in on my other side. “Three o’clock, bro. We got company.”
My gaze shifted, a prickle razoring around my neck. Demon Seeds stood on a hill of the cemetery by the far gate.
Isi went to stand between Ryan and her aunt and uncle as the mourners took turns hugging them, wishing them well. The service was over.
“Let’s go say hello.” Willy, Mick and I strode over to the Seeds. They eyed us, shifting their weight, crossing their arms. Claw’s long hair lifted in the breeze, his jaw pulsing.
I got in his face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to pay my last respects to my father-in-law and see how my old lady is doing.”
“You fucking don’t learn, do you? She’s my old lady, and that whole family is thrilled she got rid of you.”
“And what? You a step up?” he said.
“I know, I know, you’re here to get in my face,” I said. “Pull my chain, show her you care and whatever the fuck, but this is a private service, and you all have no business being here. You already know you’re not welcome in this town.”
“Leo is my business, Wreck. I mean to see him. He owes me. Owes me big time, I’ve waited long enough.”
“I think it’s high time you got over your hurt feelings like a big boy and get on with your shit,” I said.
“This ain’t about feelings, asshole,” Claw snarled. “It’s about what’s coming to me. Promises he made. I went to jail, and he stayed free. I didn’t squeal on him, kept him clean for Isi’s sake ‘cause she asked me to.”
“Oh yeah? Just ‘cause she asked you to?”
He slanted his head. “He promised he’d keep my share til I got out. I’m out. First, he pulled a vanishing act, now he shows up, and I hear he has his own business going.”
“You touch him, and I swear—”
“I’m guessing he isn’t here, huh?”
“No, he ain’t,” said Mick.
“The rumors are true, then.” Claw’s big eyes got even larger as he let out a hearty laugh. “That crazy motherfucker killed his own daddy. Who would have thought he had it in him?”
“Nobody knows how that fire got started,” I said. “But maybe you do. You knew that warehouse—maybe Leo had shown you how to get in. Did you follow him there that night? Threaten him? Maybe you wanted to teach him a lesson?”
In a flash of movement, Claw grabbed my jacket and jerked me in as a long knife glinted at my neck, its sharp point at my skin. I twisted in his hold.
“Hey!” shouts and curses blew up around us. A shove from behind had me turning my head, and the gun I kept in my back was now pressed against Claw’s face.
My gun was in Isi’s hand.
“Don’t you fucking touch him!” her voice seethed.
“Oh, look at you, Songbird,” Claw said, a hint of awe tinted with amusement wreaked from his voice.
She shoved the gun barrel into his cheek. “Shut the fuck up and put the knife down. Do it!” He grit his teeth and lowered his blade, releasing me.
“How dare you come here today,” Isi said. “How dare you."
His eyes locked on her. “Wanted you to know I was thinking of you, baby.”
“Shut up! I don’t want you here,” she spat out.
He leaned into her. “I need to see Leo.”
“Did you burn the warehouse down?” she said. “Was it you?”
He only smiled. “I made you a promise, Is. And I made good on that promise, didn’t I? I went down alone. I kept your brother out of it. But Leo…” He shook his head. “He was like a brother to me, and he cheated me. The two of you tried to fucking break me. I’ve waited long enough, baby. He wouldn’t show himself, I had to smoke him out.”
“Oh my God, you fuck”—she dug the gun barrel into his cheek, her face pale— “my father is dead!”
“You gonna shoot me?” Claw said, his voice low, his upper lip twitching. A dare that echoed with long, simmering emotion.
Isi’s body shook as she dug the gun into his face. “I hate you, I hate you.”
This motherfucker had to go. “Isi, give me the gun,” I said slowly. “Isi … not like this.”
She grunted and shoved back from Claw. I circled her body with my arms, peeling my gun from her hand.
“There a problem here?” Ryan’s stern cop voice added to the mix.
“Nah, Officer,” Claw said, sniffing in air. “We’re paying our respects.”
Ryan’s heated gaze went to Isi and shot back to Claw. “Get moving. As in out of town,” Ryan said. “Now.”
Claw and his two brothers got on their bikes, revving their engines loudly, and finally took off.
“How dare he show his face here today.” Ryan’s voice simmered as we both watched Isi trod back to her father’s grave, Georgia’s arm around her.
“Claw’s looking for Leo,” I said.
“Aren’t we all?” Ryan muttered.
I tilted my head. “You asking me for help, Officer?”
“Yeah, Wreck, I am. This asshole is going to tear him apart and spit him out if he finds him.”
Which meant that Isi was vulnerable. “We’ll talk,” I said. “I got to get Isi out of here.”
“Yeah. Okay,” said Ryan.
I caught up with Isi and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I want to go home,” she said.
“Let’s go home.” I guided her up the hill toward the cemetery gates.
She put a hand to my chest, stopping me. “I want to go to my house. I need to be there tonight.”<
br />
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I lifted my chin at Mick, and he came over. “I need a few of the bros to do a patrol around Meager tonight. I’m taking Isi to the Dillon house. I need that area covered, and my house, the club. All of it.”
“You got it.”
I needed to get Isi calm, safe. And then we would deal with Claw.
Chapter Forty
The Dillon house was an old stone and wood mansion from the twenties. At one end rose a stately copper turret—blue-green with age. Around the house wrapped a deep porch with thick, wooden, rocking chairs that had undoubtedly seated a number of generations of Dillons. Dilapidated and worn around the edges, but proud and so grand. Ghosts probably walked the hallways.
Old black and white photos from the decades gone by lined the walls: an all-town picnic laid out with long tables in a field, women with pinned hair and hats, frilly dresses, Meager having its centennial celebration, a great locomotive pulling into a station in some small Dakota outpost.
“You sure you want to be here now, baby?”
She only nodded, a hand landing on the big, round, wooden knob on the staircase. I touched her back and walked with her up the stairs. She headed for a bedroom. Her bedroom. Heavy curtains and a four-poster bed.
“Sit here.” I led her to the edge of her bed. “Where’s the bathroom, Is?”
She pointed to the left, and I found it. A great big antique tub was at one end and a large stand sink with a big mirror over it at the other. I opened the tap, opened the bottles of shower gel that I found, and filled the tub. Violet and rose, one said. Caramel, said the other bottle. I took in a deep breath of the fragrances that deepened and mingled in the steam of the tiled bathroom. Intoxicating. Comforting. Even to me.
“Is?”
She was still sitting as I’d left her, staring into nothingness—or was it too much of everything-ness?
I knelt before her and untied her leather ankle boots, sliding them off her feet. Her socks.
“Stand for me, sweetheart.” I hooked an arm around her middle, and somehow I got the long black dress off her, the bra, the underwear and picked her up in my arms. A small sound escaped her lips, and I planted a firm kiss on her warm forehead. “I got you, baby.”
Her head fell against my chest, and I swung her around and brought her into the bathroom, setting her into the now froth-filled bathtub.
“Too hot?” I asked.
She only shook her head. I got on my knees and picked a blue washcloth from a small basket full of them at the side, dipped it in the fragrant soapy water and rubbed up and down her arm. Over her chest, around her throat, her neck. She was a girl in my hands. A vulnerable, beautiful, sad girl. Silent tears fell from her eyes as I continued to wash her gently. Legs, feet, knees, thigh, around her tummy.
A wet, soapy hand touched my cheek, I met her heavy gaze. “I love you,” she whispered hoarsely. “Do you know much I love you? I don’t think I say it enough to you. I should. I need to say it more, and you need to hear it. I’m not afraid of what it means anymore, because what it means with you is thrilling and peaceful all at the same time. I love that we have that and I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re never going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her wet thumb brushed over my lips. “I don’t want to not do, not be, not love.”
“I don’t think you ever have, Is.” I chuckled softly.
“I love you,” she breathed. “I love you.”
I brought her wet, soapy palm to my lips.
My heart drummed in my chest. The violet and rose scents hung around us in the humidity, tumbling flowers in our wild garden. I pressed her palm into my chest over my heart where she’d nicked me with her little knife long ago. “I love you, Isadora Dillon. Always.”
Our truth, our strength flowed through my veins, flowed through her.
My beautiful Isi smiled, the shadows finally slipping from her face. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me close, pulling me into the tub with her. The flop and slap of the water heaved over us as my body curled around her, and she held me. The bathtub a sea that couldn’t be contained, that pulled us in its tide.
We twisted in that sea. We kissed in the waves, in the foam of flowers and the salt of tears. Those kisses washed away sadness and regrets, and we bathed in the deepest, purest happiness we would ever know.
That was the most passionate and gentlest moment of my life, and I would never forget it. I would cling to it in the dark times to come.
Chapter Forty-One
We pushed open the entrance door of The Lone Pony, The Shepherd’s bar in Rapid. A slow grin lit up Shepherd’s weathered, grizzled face as we strode toward the table where he sat. “Gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine evening?”
“Our booze supplier refused to make his scheduled delivery to us today at The Tingle. We thought you might know something about that?”
“That’s a shame, huh? You all going to be serving Mountain Dew and Snapple to your customers tonight?” He took a drag off a clove cigarette, the spicy smoke wafting around him.
“Stay away from The Tingle,” I said.
“That Tingle’s a sweet little spot.” He leaned back in his chair as he let out a dry laugh. “I’ve always liked it.”
It was a game to Shepherd, a game he enjoyed. To Kicker and his brother, Charlie, it had become a tense battle to keep their livelihood intact and thriving. In fact, Charlie was in the hospital having open heart surgery, and Kicker had taken over running the strip club—a fact I was sure Shepherd was well aware of and planned his latest tactic wisely.
The Shepherd was sitting back, pulling on his cock, and watching The Tingle crumble, and Kicker and Charlie along with it. By the time he’d be done, The Tingle would be worthless, and he’d be the only interested buyer. He’d scrape it off the ground for pennies and turn it into whatever he wanted, probably a bigger, better Tingle, and then the town would go apeshit.
No fucking way.
“The Tingle is ours, and it’s staying ours,” said Mick.
Shepherd clasped his hands together. “You want me to lay off The Tingle? I’m gonna need something in return.”
“Like?”
“Bring me Leo Dillon,” Shepherd said.
“Why?” I said.
Shepherd’s gaze fell on me. “He made promises to me on a business deal, and he hasn’t made good on them yet. He’s been lying to me. Thinks he can run circles around me. Pops up and takes off.”
“His choice. And if your customers like what Leo’s offering, that’s on you, not him.”
The Shepherd’s hooded eyes glinted. “Motherfucker, what I got is years worth of investments and relationships, nobody fucks with that. A shit like Leo thinks he can slide in and around me, he’s wrong. A few have tried, they all failed.” He stroked his beard and gestured at me. “He’s your old lady’s brother, right?”
My spine turned to icy steel under his cold gaze.
“He giving you all a cut for protection?” Shepherd asked.
“Leo’s just a local guy selling weed and a few goodies to people at parties,” Mick said. “And he’s not the only one. What’s the big deal?”
Shepherd laughed. “You don’t fucking know that punk at all, do you?” He leaned back in his chair, one hand thrumming on the worn wooden tabletop. “If you all think you’re a shiny motorcycle club that can come to me and make demands, you would be wrong. Dead wrong. If you think that you can do your own thing and lay claim, branch out with Leo, you got that wrong too. Go back to your dusty little shithole town now. I don’t want to hear from you again unless you got him with you.”
That cruel smile tipped his lips. “Then we can talk about The Tingle.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Jake and Boner found Leo.
I dialed the number Jake had beeped me with from a payphone at a laundromat north of Rapid. “We got him safe at this motel,” s
aid Jake. “He didn’t want to come, but I told him Isi wanted to see him, so he gave in. He’s a little freaked out. You and Isi better get up here quick.”
Jake gave me the address of the motel outside of Deadwood where he and Boner had holed up with Leo. “Thank fuck. Good job, man.”
“You bet.”
I met up with Isi and gave her the motel address. She was to take a roundabout route and then meet me there. Us taking off together would be too obvious.
“Is he okay? Is he hurt? Is he being aggressive?” her questions shot at me.
“I don’t know details, baby. I only know he’s alive and with Jake and Boner.”
At the motel, Leo was on the edge of the bed, body stiff, watching a kid’s show on television. Isi hugged him, and his body slowly melted and relaxed, and he accepted her embrace. I left them alone to their murmurings. Leo refused to get in the shower, so she got a washcloth and washed his face with it. He was dirty, he smelled. He was a mess. Closing his eyes, his shoulders slumping, Leo remained still for her touch while he hummed to himself. There was intimacy there, trust.
Jake, Boner, and I stood by the door, our backs turned to give brother and sister some privacy. “He’s got The Shepherd after him,” I said. “Do you know if Leo ever worked for him in any way? Did he start out with him?”
“Nah,” said Jake. “Which is how he got Shepherd’s attention, of course. He’s always sold better shit than the flock. Turns out way back, Cheezer’s the one who bought shit from Leo and brought it to Shepherd.”
“Oh man, of course he did,” I muttered. “Shepherd’s been a lone wolf for years in these parts, and that’s the way he wants to keep it.”
“The Shepherd and his fucking flock,” muttered Boner. “He wishes he was Charles Manson or some shit. I hear he’s got a stockpile of ammo at his compound along with his harem girls and his fighting dogs. He’s even got a doomsday bunker fully outfitted for a militia.”