“We’re gonna go hit the shower. But after that, can Christophe hang out with you?” he asked. “I got some stuff to do tonight with Colt.”
“Oh yeah, sure.” I smiled at Christophe. “Come back down to the kitchen, okay? Dinner will be ready soon.”
“One of you can use the shower in my room, if you’d like,” Krista offered. “It’s pretty small; I just use it if I’m here late with Colt after a party or something.”
Jean Luc nodded, and they went to go get cleaned up.
Krista and I had dinner with Christophe and Becky, Krista’s daughter, on the pool table. Then we spent the evening playing checkers. When Krista turned on Snow White, I decided it would be a good time to run upstairs.
“You mind if I take a quick shower?” I asked her.
She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got things under control.”
I trudged up the stairs and rolled my neck. The day had been long but fun. Krista was easy to like, and the kids were good-natured. There were a few cranky moments, but overall I liked Christophe.
Grabbing the doorknob, I walked into Jean Luc’s room.
I had walked into a nightmare.
Laid out on the bed we had made love on were guns, ammo, and stuff I couldn’t even begin to recognize. Piece by piece, all lined up in a deadly system of organization.
“Shit,” someone hissed.
There were three guys in the room, Jean Luc, Colt, and another man. I’d met him before but couldn’t recall his name.
“Hey, cher.” Jean Luc crossed the room. He grabbed my arm and maneuvered me out into the hall. “You need something?”
The door closed behind him and blocked out everything. But I couldn’t forget what I had seen.
“What was all that for?” I searched his eyes looking for an answer. The worst answer popped into my head, and I pulled my arm away. “Are you going to kill someone? Is that what’s going on here?”
“I’m not going to kill anyone, okay?” His words were measured, an attempt to calm me. “Just making sure we have a little backup when we talk to Davide tonight.”
I looked at the closed door; images of the weapons flashed through my head. “That’s why Christophe and I are here, isn’t it? It’s easier for you to protect us when you’re out threatening people.” I imagined him waving guns around in the parking lot of the crappy motel, and my breath caught. “You could get killed or arrested.”
“Come on.” He grabbed my hand, and we went to the guest room. He motioned me to sit on the bed with him. There were no guns or ammo in this room, but the image of that bed covered in deadly items was still burned into my brain. I sat on the very edge.
“You climbed out of your bedroom window with me last night to avoid the guard in your living room. Right?” he asked.
I put my face in my hands and nodded. God, what had I been thinking?
“So you already know I don’t do things in a conventional way.” Picking up my hand, he placed it on his leg. Normally I wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to give him a squeeze, feel his muscle. But there on his warm leg, my hand was ice cold.
He may have entered my life as an outlaw biker, but he’d proven himself to be so much more. The father, the artist, the sexy lover. Maybe he had been right when he was saying awful things about me in my office. Maybe I was only interested in him because he was hot and dangerous. Now that I saw what he really was, a criminal, I couldn’t look away.
“What’s going to happen tonight, Skeeter?” I asked. I’d never called him that, and the name was rough on my tongue.
He put his arm around me, but I leaned away. “We’re just going to scare him.” He sighed. “Make sure he leaves town and doesn’t bother Christophe.”
“With guns?” When he didn’t answer, I stood up and walked to the nightstand and then turned back. “So far we have attempted murder, kidnapping of a minor. You can plead it down to custodial kidnapping, of course, but they’ll start with the worst.”
I paced the length of the room, considering all of the charges, imagining Jean Luc in a penitentiary jumpsuit. “And what happens to Christophe when you get arrested then?” I asked. “He grows up without a father? Is that what happens, Skeeter?”
He jumped off the bed and stood in front of me, blocking the door. “Stop calling me that.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “You don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” I threw my arms up. “I’m staying in a motorcycle club. The rest of them call you Skeeter. You guys lay weapons out like they’re a spaghetti buffet, but you get mad when I call you Skeeter?” My stomach churned, and the words were acid as they left my mouth. “Trying to have a relationship was a mistake. I want to go home.”
“Miri—” he started.
I cut him off. “No. I don’t want to hear it. Take me to my dad,” I demanded.
We stared at each other for a long moment before he just nodded. Just a little nod.
“Fine. After we talk to Davide, I’ll take you home,” he agreed.
“I’ll pack.” I turned my back on him and just waited. It was silent for a moment, but then I heard the door click. He’d left.
I was in love with a criminal.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Skeeter
“Fuck, man, is she okay?” Rip nodded toward the muffled sounds of sobbing.
I shrugged. “No.” I wanted to get back to business; I didn’t want to think of how I’d hurt her. How I’d gone from being someone she trusted to whatever I was now. Her eyes had turned cold when she listed off the charges.
“So we have enough ammo if things turn south?” I asked.
“Shit better not go that direction.” Colt was popping bullets into a magazine for a nine-mill. “We promised Tate it was just gonna be all scare tactics and then we’d bounce. If you got other plans, better tell us now.”
I shook my head and started gathering up weapons and ammo. “All I wanna do is scare the guy. Get him out of town. No kills.” I thought of what Miri had said. “I have enough charges on my plate. No need to rack up any more.”
Colt and Rip exchanged a look over the top of my head. Like I was too dumb to notice. I put some more elbow grease into the gun I was cleaning.
All I wanted to do was scare Davide enough to get him out of town. Then I could deal with Miri.
What the hell had I been thinking? She wasn’t the kind of woman who hung out in a clubhouse waiting for her man to come home from a run. Shit. She was Gerald Englestein’s daughter. The man could probably buy and sell most of Seattle, and I’d asked her to stay in a shitty bedroom at the MC.
It had been my shitty bedroom, though, and I thought that was enough. Fucking dumb of me. Thinking she might understand or care, I’d put her there to sleep. I wanted her sleeping in my bed, dreaming of my arms around her, but now all she thought of was a bunch of guns and death.
* * *
After putting away the weapons and stowing them for tonight, I headed back downstairs. I’d spent the entire morning with Christophe and wanted to spend more time with him. Every moment was like a little light of blessing.
He was bent over a sheet of paper, drawing. I leaned against the wall and just watched. I’d never get sick of watching him.
“He looks like you,” Miri whispered from beside me. “He’s behind in school, on everything. He wants to learn, though. He’ll catch up fast.”
“Thanks.” I wasn’t sure what else I should say. “I appreciate your help.”
No matter what was between us, she was doing good by the kid. She’d be a good mom someday—to someone else’s kid, not mine.
“Hey, buddy.” I ruffled the kid’s hair. Dads were supposed to do that, right? “What’re you working on?”
“Math.” He shrugged and put the penc
il down. “I wanna go back with Uncle Davide and Aunt Amy.”
I sat down next to him at the bar. It was time to talk. “You’re old enough that I’m gonna treat you like a man.” I tapped my finger on the bar and watched as the kid puffed up his chest. “Gonna give it to ya straight. You can’t go back to Davide.”
His little display of manliness was gone, and in its place was a quivering chin. So much for taking it like a man. He was unraveling. Fuck. I needed to save this fast.
“I know you’ve been living with Davide, and he did a real good job taking care of you until he found me, but I’m your dad. Now that you’re here with me, we’re gonna be a real family.”
The eyes were big and watery, and he stared at me but he didn’t say anything.
“We’re gonna live in a house, and you’ll go to school regular, and we’ll have pizza for dinner.” Fuck. I was grabbing at anything.
“I ain’t never lived in a real house.” He didn’t look at me but started drawing a house next to one of his math problems.
“Do you wanna see the house?” I asked. Maybe this would be good. An easy way to get him excited about living with me.
He nodded. I looked at the clock on the wall. If we drove fast, I could be there and back in time to go meet up with Davide, easy.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Christophe was squeezed between me and Rip as we headed out to my place. It was definitely a risk to bring him out here. Davide could be following us, but I didn’t think he had enough firepower to take us on the move. I decided me and Rip would be enough protection for a quick trip out there.
“It’s not as bouncy as Uncle Davide’s car,” he said.
I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, so I just asked him to tell me about Uncle Davide’s car as we drove. It sounded like Davide’s blue truck needed a lot of repairs.
When we pulled up, Christophe wiggled out of the car and stood in the middle of the gravel driveway and looked around. After turning a full circle, he faced the front door. “Can we go in?” he asked.
I unlocked the front door and stepped aside. He was like a damn tornado running through. My place was small, so it didn’t take him long to make the full circle.
When he got back to my little front room, he was out of breath. “Where’s everybody else? The other people that live here?”
“There’s no one else.” My chest squeezed. Shit. Had my kid never lived in a real house without any roommates before? “It’s just us. Did you see your bedroom?”
We spent a long time in his little room. Christophe inspected everything. “So I sleep here?” he asked. He pointed to the bed. “I don’t have to share?”
I nodded. “It’s all yours.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers over the bedspread. “And you and Miri sleep in the room with the big bed?” he asked, his eyes wide.
Shit. I hadn’t been prepared for that question.
I knelt down in front of him. “I’m not sure if Miri will live here too,” I explained. “It might just be you and me.”
I waited for him to cry or complain. I waited to see if I would be enough for him. I squeezed his shoulder. I wanted to be everything for him.
“Is it okay if it’s just us guys living here?” I asked.
He smiled. “Yeah, Dad, it’s okay.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Miri
Christophe sat on the bar stool next to me and drew a picture of his room at Jean Luc’s house. He had pretty good images of the bed and the desk, but the dresser was giving him problems. I drummed my fingertips on the wooden bar top. I was helping Krista with the kids and waiting on Jean Luc. I hadn’t seen him since he’d returned from showing Christophe the house.
“Hey, babe,” Colt said, his tread heavy as he stepped behind the bar. “We’re heading out.”
“Be careful,” Krista said, kissing him.
I assumed that Jean Luc wouldn’t come downstairs like Colt. After our fight, I didn’t expect him to say goodbye. Our relationship was over, but I wanted to wish him well. I wasn’t sure exactly what they intended, but it was dangerous.
Colt and Krista finally ended their kiss. “Hey, um, where are the rest of the guys?” I asked. I loved Jean Luc. I may not be able to be with him, but I did love him, and I wanted to say goodbye, tell him to be careful. The feeling was primal. My mate was leaving for war, and I had to see him off.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Krista.
Running out into the parking lot, I stopped dead in my tracks. The guys were checking weapons. Ten guys on motorcycles with guns. Jean Luc was looking at a map with the man next to him.
I walked over to him, aware that every pair of eyes in the place followed me. Just as I got near him, Jean Luc buckled on his helmet. It was a full helmet, covering his chin and mouth, everything but his eyes. I wondered if he put it on so he could avoid talking to me.
“Don’t get hurt,” I blurted out. “Be careful.”
I couldn’t see much of his face, just his eyes. For a moment, they lost their steely determination. Reaching out, he grabbed my hand and gave my fingers a squeeze. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for that moment. He nodded toward the gate. Time to go.
I stepped back, and the rest of the engines roared to life. The sea of leather and chrome ebbed and flowed past me and out the clubhouse gate.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Skeeter
The plan was Colt, Rip, and I were gonna bust into the room and try to reason with Davide. The rest of the guys would be stationed around the parking lot to make sure no one entered or left.
“You ready?” Rip asked, about to give the signal to move.
“Ready. Let’s do this.” I nodded to him, and Rip raised his hand to let everyone know we were moving.
As we ran toward the room, I reminded myself why I had taken Christophe from Davide in the first place. A drifter who barely paid any attention wasn’t a father. Christophe was my kid, and it was time for me to take responsibility.
I pounded on the crappy motel room door. A light flicked on, and the knob turned. Standing to the side, I stuck the muzzle of my .38 through the crack as soon as the door opened.
“Oh my god!” Amy shrieked as she took off for the bathroom.
I stepped inside the room, my gun leading the way, looking for Davide. He was sitting at the tiny motel table eating a sandwich. I trained my gun on him to make sure he stayed put. Moving to the side, I motioned for Colt and Rip to follow.
“Get the girlfriend,” I told Rip. “She’s in the bathroom.”
Amy had locked the door, so Rip had to put his shoulder into it and bust it open. Amy was trying to crawl out the little window above the tub. I let Rip deal with her and turned my attention back to Davide.
“You trying to scare me, huh?” He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed.
“Christophe is my kid, and he’s with me now.” I lowered my weapon a little because Davide wasn’t resisting. “He left voluntarily, so back off, and don’t make any more threats about me or my girl.”
I started to cringe when I said “my girl” because she wasn’t, and that was no one else’s fault but mine. Instead I kept my emotions and expressions in check.
Davide crossed his legs and stretched out. “You owe me forty grand in child support.” He finished his sandwich and lit a cigarette. “I was hoping you might pay up tonight.”
“I don’t have the money. I didn’t know I had a kid, okay?” I explained, keeping the gun trained on him. “If you want, we can arrange some sort of payment, but I don’t have that kinda cash.”
“You need to listen here, boy.” Davide stood up. “I took care of that kid for eight years and drove him to his games and down to the creek to catch crawfish. I did it all. I
want my money.”
“Stay there. Don’t come any fucking closer,” I threatened. I didn’t want to shoot this guy, but I would if he attacked me. I had Christophe now and had to make sure I was there to raise my son.
Davide took a step toward me. I planted my feet and wrapped both hands around the hilt of my .38 Special. Amy screamed bloody murder from where Rip was holding on to her by the bathroom door.
“Shut up, woman!” Davide yelled. “He’s too chickenshit to do nothing.”
“You really believe that?” I asked, staring into his eyes. “Let’s play a little game. If you really believe that I won’t fucking shoot you, take one more step in my direction. Do it. Just one.”
Davide narrowed his eyes. He was thinking about testing me. I waited for him to move.
“You promised me cash,” he said, staying put.
“Look, you were his father. I ain’t disputing that,” I argued. “But he is my son, and he’s with me now, and I’ll pay you back as best I can.”
“I want my money,” Davide repeated. “In case you’re thinking of skipping out on me, think about this. Your girl knew what you were planning—she’s gonna go down for accessory to kidnapping. I found out she’s a lawyer. You think she’s still gonna like you if she can’t do her job no more?”
“Leave her out of this,” I growled. “She had nothing to do with it.”
“Well, seems to me that you owe me forty grand, ’cause that’s how much I spent on your kid.” He smiled. “You ain’t nothing but a deadbeat dad.”
“Shut up, Davide. You leave Miri out of this. She’s a good woman,” Amy broke in. “You didn’t spend no forty grand on that kid.”
“You’d best keep your mouth shut.” David lunged in her direction. “This ain’t your business. You don’t get no say in this.”
Two steps to cross the motel room floor, and I rammed into him with my right shoulder. Knocked off balance, Davide crashed into the wall. I stowed my gun in the holster at the small of my back and pinned Davide to the wall.
Rebel Custody Page 16