Sinners are Winners (KPD Motorcycle Patrol Book 5)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  Had been, actually.

  I wasn’t normally a food sharer. Ares was right. It was odd for me to be doing what I was doing.

  If it were any other person, I would’ve been adamant that I didn’t want to share.

  But with Saylor, I didn’t seem to mind.

  I’d do anything for her, even eat all the green beans.

  “Y’all ready to play a game?” Memphis said when all the food had been consumed.

  “What kind of game?” Saylor asked. “I’m not very good at any game.”

  Something in which we all realized about an hour later.

  “You could buy that,” Ares suggested.

  Saylor frowned. “I don’t want to buy that.”

  “But if you buy it, it’ll mean that Lock can’t buy it,” she pointed out. “It’s a railroad. If he lands on it, he’s going to snatch it up.”

  She looked over at me. “What are the chances?”

  The chances, apparently, were really good.

  Because within the next two turns I’d landed on it, bought it, and then caused Ares to have to pay out the ass.

  Ares turned a glare onto Saylor.

  “See?” she said. “This is what I’ve had to deal with my entire life.”

  “Pffft,” she said. “It’s not that bad.”

  Ares rolled her eyes as Aspen took her turn.

  “Just you wait, Saylor,” Aspen said. “He’s going to fuck you over like he fucks the rest of us over.”

  Saylor looked over at me and batted her eyelashes.

  “Surely you wouldn’t,” she said to me, smiling wickedly.

  Two hours later, the game was over, Saylor was pissed off, and Ares was laughing her ass off.

  “All is fair in love and Monopoly, Saylor,” Ares teased.

  Saylor stuck her tongue out at Ares, then turned her glacial glare on me.

  “I can’t believe that you act the way you do,” she said, still miffed. “Why do you play like that? How could that ever be any fun?”

  I grinned. “I can’t help it that’s the way the game is played. I’m sorry that you lost but…”

  “I lost,” she agreed. “But you played like a jackass. I’ll never play Monopoly with you again.”

  “He’s like that with every single game he plays,” Downy said. “He’s a competitive little fucker.”

  “Please don’t call our child a fucker,” Memphis said, rubbing the back of her neck.

  Downy walked up to her and started to rub her neck, massaging it in deep, smooth strokes.

  “Everything okay, Memphis?” Saylor started to look worried.

  “This little bastard kid that I didn’t hire,” she murmured. “He’s caused me to have headache after headache. Jesus Christ, it would’ve been easier to hire him and then fire him. He’s cost me more money than hiring him for a year would’ve.”

  I felt my stomach tighten.

  “Has something more happened?” I asked, leaning forward, forgetting everything about what I was doing.

  “No.” She paused. “Still the same stuff he hit me with originally. Kid’s persistent, though. He wants to settle out of court. I want it to go to court. He’s making it damn difficult, that’s for sure.”

  “I wasn’t aware that they got the decision to settle it out of court at all,” Saylor frowned. “Why would he want to settle? He feels he has a legitimate claim to the money, therefore, he shouldn’t be upset to go to court.”

  Dad growled under his breath.

  “The little fucker is slippery,” he said. “I looked him up at the station. Kid’s got a rap sheet a mile long. He’s also gotten out of every single offense due to his upbringing and mental health issues.”

  “Mental health issues?” Drew asked. “What kind of mental health issues?”

  “The kind that lands him in a state-mandated rehab after each offense,” Dad grumbled.

  “So, who does he have on his side that he’s able to get that each time he’s landed himself in prison?” Jonah asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “Not sure,” Dad admitted. “But, luckily, the court was able to lock down a court date. We’re going to be going next Thursday.”

  “Which reminds me,” Memphis said. “Do you think you could open that day?”

  Saylor was already nodding at my mother’s question.

  “Perfect,” she sighed. “I need another glass of wine.”

  “You’ll win,” Aspen said confidently. “Especially if this guy has a rap sheet already and all that jazz.”

  Dad left to get my mom a refill on her glass of wine, and I hauled Saylor in close.

  “What’s this guy’s name, anyway?” Drew asked. “Maybe I know him.”

  “Kris,” Dad said. “Kristoff something or other.”

  Saylor shivered. “I used to know a Kristoff. He was freaky.”

  “Maybe it’s just the name,” Ares suggested. “I know a Kristoff, too. And he left me stranded on our date because I wouldn’t give him the D in his car.”

  Dad growled under his breath, as did I.

  “Was that the weasel that Lock beat the shit out of at school and got suspended for?” Jonah asked.

  “You were suspended?” Piper laughed. “He deserved it, didn’t he?”

  I snorted. “Deserved it is too mild of a word. But yes, I beat the absolute dog piss out of him. He used to go to one of those alternative schools. Only showed up at ours when he wanted to pick up chicks that would do him. All the girls at his school likely knew what kind of a douchebag he was.”

  Saylor looked up at me with a small smile on her face. “You’re all cute when you’re growly.”

  I bared my teeth at her.

  “It was kind of nice,” Ares said. “But unnecessary. He got suspended for fighting for like two weeks. Missed his football game and they lost. Everybody was so mad at him after that. I was shunned at the school because that was the game that would lead us to state.”

  “Fucking Kristoff,” Saylor bit out.

  I snorted and turned to her, my mouth only inches from her face. “You’re a lively one.”

  She touched my nose with her tongue.

  “I…”

  There was a loud bang, and all of us were on our feet and heading to the front door.

  “Well, fuck,” Dad said after opening the door. “Fucking motherfucker.”

  I made it outside just as my dad stepped over Mocha, who still hadn’t moved from her spot.

  “That’s not good,” I muttered darkly.

  “No,” Dad agreed. “It sure the fuck isn’t. Gonna have to call this in.”

  We all stared at his cruiser that had a shotgun blast to the front windshield.

  “Not good at all,” Saylor murmured.

  “At least you didn’t arrive on your motorcycle,” Ares said. “Then we would’ve had two vandalized police-issued vehicles.”

  Ares words were surprisingly valid.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Really good thing.”

  Later that night, as I crawled into bed beside Saylor, she turned to me and blinked open her sleepy eyes.

  I reached for the light above the bed and flipped it off with a flick of my fingers and stared into Saylor’s concerned face once my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

  “What?” I asked.

  She bit her lip. “Is this what I’m going to have to look forward to since I’m dating a cop? I’m not used to this. My dad was always loved and cared for. Firefighters are the coolest people ever.”

  I hauled her in close and dropped a punishing kiss onto her mouth. “Take that back. Firefighters aren’t the coolest. Police officers are.”

  She grinned against my lips. “Okay. But don’t tell my daddy.”

  I laughed against her mouth, dropped one more kiss to her kissable lips, then allowed her to go back to her side of the bed.

  “To answer your question,” I said. “I don’t know. Stuff like what happened
today at my dad’s place has never happened before. I don’t know what to expect. The world also isn’t what it used to be. I think that, in time, it might get better. But that time is definitely not now.”

  My words rang with the harsh truth of reality.

  Sadly, cops weren’t looked upon the same as they once were.

  She reached across the small distance that separated us and placed her hand into mine.

  I squeezed it.

  “I’m scared for you,” she said. “But I’m also going to tell you the truth. I’m scared shitless.”

  I squeezed her hand, bringing the soft skin up to my lips before pressing a single kiss on it.

  “Love can get you through it?” I teased.

  She scoffed. “Who said anything about love?”

  Her shriek of laughter was cut off when I pressed my lips to hers after yanking her across the bed.

  “Why don’t you like to cuddle?” I asked, finally voicing the words that I’d been meaning to ask since she started sleeping in my bed.

  She ran her fingers along my scruffy jaw and said, “Because you don’t like to cuddle. I could take it or leave it…but since you’re okay with not touching while we sleep, so am I.”

  I pressed a kiss to her mouth, another hard one.

  “What makes you think I don’t like to cuddle?” I challenged her.

  She practically rolled her eyes.

  “Because when we get in bed, you go to your side, I go to mine, and you don’t try to pull me to you. Plus, throughout the night, we don’t even gravitate to each other. If you wanted to cuddle, I don’t think there is anything in this world that I could do to keep you away from me,” she explained.

  I sighed and brushed the hair off of her face. “You’re right. I’m inherently hot. All the time. Cuddling makes me sweat.” I paused. “But that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t cuddle you if you wanted it. You’d just have to deal with my sticky body pressing to yours.”

  She snickered.

  “I think I’m okay,” she said. “When I need you, I’ll find you.”

  With those words, she reached up, pressed a kiss to my surprised mouth, then rolled back to her side. “’Night, Lock.”

  I tugged her covers up to her chin and said, “’Night, baby.”

  Chapter 11

  Not to be dramatic, but it’s only fucking Tuesday.

  -Lock’s secret thoughts

  Lock

  “We have a new guy starting today.” Captain Morgan dropped his booted feet to the ground beside his desk. “I want you all to welcome him. Treat him like you would any of the rest of the guys here. But also, swear to Christ, don’t stare at him.”

  I frowned.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked. “And is this the one that was supposed to start months ago but never showed?”

  Captain Morgan rubbed his tired face.

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “Man suffered from some severe PTSD. Plus, he had a bit of recovering to do that they didn’t realize he had to do.”

  “They?” I asked.

  “The doctors that released him for duty.” He paused. “He’s healthy. Just…for God’s sake, don’t stare at him.”

  It wasn’t until I was standing in the hall waiting for my partner for the day that I realized what he meant.

  The man heading my way was tall, broad-shouldered, and looked strong.

  That was until he came closer and I could see his face.

  It was fucked. Up.

  The man had scars all along his body. On his hands. Every inch of exposed skin. Hell, he even had scars on his head. The black of his hair was doing a fairly good job at concealing those, though.

  The rest, though?

  Not so much.

  The man’s eyes caught mine as he continued to walk, and I could tell that he was cataloging me just the same as I was cataloging him.

  I held my hand out when he got close, and the man took my hand, shaking it firmly twice before dropping it.

  “Malachi Stokes,” Captain Morgan said. “This is your partner for the day, Lock Downy. Lock, this is Malachi.”

  I nodded once at Malachi.

  Something about him seemed familiar, but I couldn’t tell what.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “You done any police work before?”

  Malachi’s eyes went from me to Captain Morgan then back.

  “Guess he didn’t explain,” Malachi muttered.

  My brows rose. “Explain what?”

  Malachi sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out his intense, strange silvery/gray gaze for a long moment before reopening them. “It might be easier, Captain Morgan, if you could just tell everyone what’s fucking wrong with me so I don’t have to tell the story twelve times.”

  Captain Morgan grunted. “I will if you want me to. But son, just sayin’, they’re curious little fuckers. Me talking to them won’t stop them from wondering. Won’t stop them from asking more questions.”

  Malachi sighed. “I suppose that’s true.”

  I was utterly curious now.

  I wanted to know what in the fuck they were talking about.

  Captain Morgan crossed his arms over his chest as if he was contemplating what to say.

  “I can’t remember any of my life,” Malachi said, surprising me. “Up until about three months ago when I woke up in a hospital bed in Germany. The only thing I had on me was my credentials, my dog tags, and the knowledge that I was fucked up…but didn’t know why.”

  I blinked.

  “You don’t remember anything?” I asked in surprise.

  “Nothing,” he confirmed. “Not my life before. Not my life during captivity. Not my life after. Not a goddamn thing.”

  Well, that just fuckin’ sucked.

  “I went the police officer route since my background showed that I was already a licensed peace officer. I went ahead and took a refresher course since I couldn’t remember any of it.” He paused. “And I came here because apparently that’s where my emergency contact and last known address is.”

  I nodded to his face. “That happen during captivity?”

  He nodded. “It did,” he said, not looking offended in the least. “Apparently they had me for a little over a year.”

  He sounded so unsure that it fuckin’ hurt to see.

  “Shit,” I said. “That’s just a goddamn shame.”

  Malachi burst out laughing. “Don’t I know it. Don’t I know it.”

  Captain Morgan bid us a good day and left, leaving me to show Malachi the ropes.

  “You have a place here?” I asked as I walked toward the door that would lead us to our motorcycles.

  “No. Well, yes, now I do. When I arrived, no. My parents were here, then moved once I enlisted. They live in Florida, so I’m just here, I guess. Wasn’t sure where to go. Thought being ‘home’ might jog my memories. So far, nothin’,” he mumbled. “I rent an apartment right outside of town.”

  “The new ones on Fifth?” I asked.

  He grunted out a ‘yes.’

  “Those are nice,” I said. “Expensive.”

  “Fuck yeah they are,” he agreed. “Though apparently I have a lot of fuckin’ money in the bank. Not sure how or why…but yeah. I can afford it.”

  I laughed. “I guess it’s not a bad thing, to have money that you didn’t know you had. One of the better things in your situation, I would have to say.”

  The man’s eyes met mine, and once again I was struck with a familiarity.

  “You look familiar as fuck,” I finally said as I stopped us next to the two motorcycles we’d be using today.

  “I’ve gotten that a lot.” He paused. “When I enlisted, I met a guy that was enlisting same as me from the same town. We swore in on the same day. Looked like my fuckin’ twin. Not sure how we managed to live in a city the size of Kilgore and never see each other but whatever.” He straddled the bike and looked back at me. �
�We swore in together. Went into BUD/S together. Deployed together. Weirdest fuckin’ thing. According to everyone else, anyway. Like I said…” he shrugged, saying without words that he couldn’t remember. “The other kid’s name was Luca Maldanado.”

  And that was why he looked so familiar.

  I hadn’t been best friends with Luca seeing as he’d gone to a different school than me, but we’d hung in the same circles, and our parents had been friends.

  Luca had gone missing right around the same time that Malachi had disappeared.

  “Y’all went missing together?” I asked.

  He nodded. “From what I’ve been told.”

  I blew out a breath.

  That sucked.

  What sucked even more was I had the fleeting thought that it wasn’t Malachi sitting next to me, but Luca.

  “Luca was a friend,” I finally said, knowing that he needed to hear it. I wouldn’t lie to him. “You’re probably going to get a lot of attention. Luca was a town hero.”

  Malachi smiled bitterly. “I know. His parents helped me get on my feet once I got back. I could tell that he was loved.” He paused. “From what I could also tell, I was loved by them, too. I might not be their flesh and blood, but I’d been brought into their home and into their arms…and I just wish I could fucking remember.”

  I felt awful for him.

  What kind of life would it be to just wake up at his age and not remember anything that had happened up until that point?

  “You know how to ride a motorcycle, right?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Malachi nodded once.

  “I do,” he confirmed. “The doc said that I would remember how to do things…just not remember how I knew them.” He paused. “I had severe damage to the part of my brain that houses the hippocampus, which is associated with memory functions. It’s highly likely that I’ll never remember…my doc just said to be thankful that I can remember how to read and write. Which, I guess he’s right.”

  The idea of having to start that far over was terrifying.

  “Right.” I paused. “Fuck, that really sucks.”

  Malachi smiled then.

  “Glad I’m not the only one to think so,” he muttered darkly.

  ***

  “Fuck,” I said as we pulled up to a stop right outside of the main part of the accident scene. “Goddammit.”