by Tia Lewis
Bookkeeping for outlaws had been a rude awakening, but they’d needed the help once Violet went to culinary school. She’d done her best with the club’s records, but everything had been a bit messy nonetheless. It wasn’t as if they could go out and find a bookkeeper off the streets, or somebody who would ask too many questions about where the money was coming from. So I’d volunteered. I was always good with numbers—I understood them in a way most of the club didn’t. I was their only chance.
We’d spent a long time arguing over that, Drake and me. I hadn’t been able to turn a blind eye to some of the entries I saw in the “private” black books. Guns, drugs. It wasn’t pretty, but we’d found a way to handle it together. Besides, as he’d pointed out, the club was no longer into drug smuggling. That was old news and nothing he wanted to bring back into the club once he took over. I was glad for that, not just because of the deep legal repercussions but because of the danger. Guns were one thing. Drugs? People died over bad drug deals.
I sat in my tiny office, pouring over the last month’s intake versus expenses. I sighed deeply when I saw the club was in the red. I had to take the information to Drake, so I picked up my stack of reports and walked them into the lounge. He was sitting there with Creed and Ace, talking something over. Something I wasn’t supposed to know about, I guessed, seeing as how they clammed up when I entered the room.
“Oh, don’t do that,” I implored. “It only makes me wonder what I’m not allowed to know about.”
Creed grinned. “Nothing too bad,” he promised.
I smirked. “Yeah, I’m sure. Tell me another good one.” I was facing three of the club’s top members, so I saw no point in keeping my numbers a secret from them. “I hate to interrupt, really, but I thought I’d clue you all into the fact that we’re in the red for the third month in a row.”
Drake winced, and the other two shifted uncomfortably. I continued. “I know you’re planning a party for Jack, which I totally understand, but afterward, there has to be some sort of discussion on revenue and expenses. We’re spending thousands of dollars a month just on booze. I mean, really now.”
Drake nodded. “Fair enough. You might be glad to hear that we were just talking about a new business opportunity.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really, but it’s not set in stone yet. You’ll hear more about it later.” He winked but took the reports from me to show me he took my words seriously. As long as he didn’t dismiss me. That was all I ever asked. He could take or leave my advice, but he couldn’t ever treat me like just another silly woman.
I checked the time. “No wonder my stomach’s growling. I’m gonna pick up a sandwich. Does anybody want anything?” In the blink of an eye, I was overwhelmed by orders. I asked them to write it all out for me while I got my purse from my office, shaking my head at them. They were like little boys sometimes.
It wasn’t lost on me that I was heading to the same corner store in which I’d first met Richie. My “in” with the club. There was a different man behind the counter, thankfully, this one not a plant from another club to get information on the Blood Riders. The Cobras had all but faded away after Hawk’s death. I wasn’t sorry to see them go.
As I waited inside for my half-dozen sandwiches, I passed the time by looking out the window at the people on the street. There was always something to see out there, people from every walk of life passing by. Young, old, every race and creed. I knew some of them by sight, and when they saw me, they waved. Of course—I was the old lady of the neighborhood prince, the man everybody loved. He was their protector, making sure crime didn’t become a way of life. Rather than fight it, he chose to oversee it. Just as Jack had, just as the club president before him had. It made sense in a way.
A moving truck was parked in front of the store, and when it moved, I got a clear vision of what was across the street. My heart sank, my blood ran cold.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, before turning to the man behind the counter and letting him know I’d be back in just a minute. I stormed out of the store and straight across the street to where Tommy Preston’s unmarked car was parked.
“Well, hi there,” he said with a smile.
I wasn’t in a smiling mood. “What are you doing here?” I asked, looking around.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, Tommy. Why are you just around the corner from the clubhouse? Is there something I need to know about?”
His smile faded a little. “And why would I tell you if there was?”
I pulled back from where I’d been leaning against his car window. “Seriously?”
“Sorry, but it’s true.” He opened the door, unfolding his body with a stretch and a grunt. “I’m not meant to sit behind the wheel of a car all day.”
“So don’t. Go back to work, Tommy. Please.” The last thing I needed was trouble with the cops. Things had calmed down considerably in the two years since my father’s murder, and I liked peace and quiet.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” he said. No smile. No pretending.
“Yes. They are. How in the world did you know that?”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere,” he shrugged.
“For real, Tommy. Stop playing around. Please.”
“I spoke with your aunt, Nicole.” he admitted.
“Are you serious? What the fuck!” I threw my hands into the air. “I can’t deal with her!”
“Yeah, she’s sort of a pill. I had to check it out for myself, kid. You understand.”
“Understand what, Tommy? Ugh, I’m so tired of this. Don’t you get it? I’m so tired. I just want to live my life and be happy, and I am happy. I promise you I am.”
“I’m sure you are, kid, but it’s my job to look after you.”
I tried to see it from his point of view, but it wasn’t easy. “Look, I know you feel like you have a responsibility to my father, but you don’t. I’m a full-grown woman now, and I can lead my life.” I looked into his tired eyes—he looked just as exhausted as I felt. “Please, just try to understand.”
“I can’t understand why you’d want to align yourself for life with a bunch of outlaws. I’m sorry, kiddo. I just can’t.”
“You don’t have to! Don’t you see? I’m not asking you, or any of the others in your squad, or my aunt or anybody else to understand. Nobody has to. I don’t stick my nose in your business. Why are you sticking yours in mine?”
“Because you’re still a kid. I know you don’t think so…”
“Oh, lay off, please.” I looked him up and down. “There’s a stain on your tie, by the way. And you look like you haven’t slept in a week. Can’t you stop worrying about me and take better care of yourself?”
He looked down, then up at me with a sheepish grin. “Point taken. I only wanted you to know that I’m still watching your back.”
“For what? I’m not in any trouble.”
“Just the same. It makes me feel better, okay?”
There was nothing I could say or do to convince him otherwise, so I gave in. “Fine, Tommy. You win. But don’t tell me you don’t have actual cases to take care of.”
“Oh, tons.” He grinned, giving me a quick hug. “Get back to it, kid.”
I shook my head as I walked away, unable to believe the depths my Aunt Karen would stoop to. I wondered if we needed to have another little talk. I wouldn’t be so nice next time.
6
Drake
“From what I’ve heard, he wants to go half with us on a new business.”
Creed looked like he’d just discovered buried treasure. He did everything but clap his hands and giggle like a little girl. “What’s your stance on it, boss?”
I wasn’t as thrilled as him—maybe because my days of fucking whores were behind me. “I don’t know. We do need the money.” I held up one of Nicole’s reports. I didn’t like to see that we were losing money every month—and not just a few bucks here and there, either but serious dou
gh.
“Right, right! So it’s a no-brainer.” Creed wouldn’t stop until I agreed with him, I could tell.
“Not so fast. It’s risky stuff. A brothel? I mean, yeah, the cops sorta overlook what the Vipers do, since they keep the prostitution trade upscale. When we get into it, it might be a different thing. They might not be so happy about us being in it—and that could blow back onto the Vipers, too. We don’t wanna make enemies out of them.”
“So no high-class hookers?” Creed pouted. “Come on, Drake. It’s almost my birthday.”
“Would you relax?” I tossed the report at him, wishing it were heavier and would knock some sense into him. “Look at this. I don’t think we have much of a choice.”
“We do need the money.” He didn’t even sound like he was kidding around.
Ace looked over his shoulder. “Ouch.” He shook his head. “Yeah, we need it.”
“So it’s a calculated risk, then.” I slouched down on the black leather couch, staring at the ceiling.
“Pussy’s a surefire investment,” Creed said.
“Yeah, speaking of which, how much money are they gonna expect us to lay out? I mean, we can handle it, but I’d wanna know how fast we’ll be making it back.”
“Don’t you think Bobby knows that?” Ace asked. “He’s a businessman, first and foremost. Even more than a biker. He knows his shit.”
“He has to. Otherwise, he’d end up on the wrong side of the law. Well, wronger than he already is,” Creed chuckled.
I rolled my eyes at his butchery of the English language. I wasn’t a genius, but at least I knew ‘wronger’ wasn’t a word. “All right. He wants to meet when?”
“His guy said sometime next week. Maybe Tuesday.”
“Sounds good. Tell him I’m in.” Ace got up to make the phone call. I didn’t feel totally comfortable with the idea, but I had to look into it. Like Creed said, pussy was a sure-fire investment and sex sells. I couldn’t afford to pass it by.
What would Nicole think? I didn’t like that she was the first thing I thought about after giving the okay. Not that it didn’t matter what she thought—I was an asshole, but I wasn’t that big an asshole—but I couldn’t let myself worry about her. She was gonna think what she thought. I couldn’t do anything about it. She’d see it was for the best. Wasn’t she the one who told me we were losing money? It was all business. And I would tell her so when she tried to rip my head off.
When she came in looking like she was ready to kill somebody, I was sure she must have planted a listening device somewhere in the clubhouse. “What’s with you?” I asked as she threw her black purse onto the couch like it was a football and she was in the end zone. At least it wasn’t the sandwiches she threw.
“I’m going to kill my aunt!” She went through the bag to get her sandwich, then stalked off to her office. The guys looked at me. I shrugged and followed her in there, closing the door.
“What’s going on? What happened this time?” I already knew her aunt wasn’t happy about the wedding, of course, or about me in general. I couldn’t believe she moved back to New York, the bitch. I hadn’t met her face to face, and I had no intention of ever doing so.
“I’m almost afraid to tell you,” she admitted, rubbing her hands over her arms.
“Come on, baby. What happened?” I unwrapped my Italian hoagie. Oil and oregano, as always.
“She called Tommy Preston to tell him about the engagement.”
I almost choked. “Him? Why him?”
“Why else? She hoped he would talk me out of it.”
“What is this hard-on she has for me? I’m starting to take it personally.” I wanted to rip the bitch a new one, whether or not she was related to my fiancée.
“It’s personal,” Nicole reminded me. “She hates that we’re together. She’s so stuck in the past, it’s pathetic. Telling Tommy that my father wouldn’t like us being together.” She fell into her desk chair, arms over her head. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m so over it.”
“There’s nothing to do,” I said with a shrug.
“You think it’s that easy?”
“Isn’t it?” I took a big bite of my sandwich, knowing it was terrible for me—somebody felt the need to remind me every time I ate one just how bad it was—but loving the way the salty meat and cold lettuce and tomato combined together.
“Sweetheart. Let’s think about this very seriously. How do you think I know my aunt called Tommy?”
I waited until I swallowed to answer. “I’m sorry, I thought she called you. Or he called you.”
“No. He was watching me from across the street when I was at the deli.”
“You’re kidding me!” That got my attention. I almost spit out what was in my mouth.
“Yes. He was following me. Which tells me he’s going to be following you, or at least, following members of the club. I think he’s pretty serious about this. No matter how many times I tell him I’m happy with you and would prefer to be left alone, he’s going to come at you.”
“Why? What did I ever do to the guy?”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to do anything. Although, in case you forgot, you’ve been on his radar for a long time.”
I waved that off. “Shit, that’s old news, though,” I said.
“Not so old from where he stands,” she said. “He’s a cop, Drake. They don’t let these things go. Just because the action has quieted down a little doesn’t mean anything’s over. He still takes this very seriously.”
“Well, so do I, damn it! But come on. Let’s let bygones be bygones. That’s the club. That’s not me.” I chewed thoughtfully. It had been two years since things quieted down. We hadn’t had a single run-in with the law since then. What was the problem?
“You’re one and the same to him. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I don’t like it anymore than you do.” She tapped her fingers on her desk, jiggling her leg up and down.
“You haven’t opened your sandwich.”
“I couldn’t eat a thing.”
“Why? Because some cop thinks he’s gonna swoop in from nowhere and save you from the big bad wolf? Come on. You have nothing to worry about, and neither do I.”
She snorted. “I’m glad you can be so positive about this.”
“I can because I’ve been through this shit before. Don’t forget, he’s not the first cop to be on our asses.” I regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“Hey, come on. I didn’t mean anything bad by that. I’m just saying, we’re used to cops being on us is all. I’m not gonna lose my shit over this, and neither should you.”
“Just do me a favor, yeah?” She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, staring at me.
“Anything. You know that.”
“Be careful right now. I mean, don’t do anything reckless. Don’t get into anything you think might bring you trouble down the line. I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me.”
I laughed it off, and she looked offended. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I just don’t see how this has anything to do with you.”
“You don’t? Did you forget the part where my aunt called the police because we’re engaged?”
When she put it that way, I had to laugh again. “Come on. It’s not that serious. Don’t take it that far. Besides, that’s your aunt who did that, not you. I knew what I was getting into when I asked you to marry me.”
“Oh, you did, huh?” Her hazel eyes sparkled a little, telling me she was coming out of her bad mood.
“Mm-hmm. I’m a pretty smart guy. I knew when I married the daughter of a cop, I’d have half the NYPD on my ass. But that’s just what it is. That’s who they are, and they think of you as one of their own. I can’t argue with that. I sort of respect it.”
“Sort of?” She snickered, and I was glad to see her open her sandwich.
“Sure. It’s like us, you know? The club. We look after e
ach other. We’re a family. So are they. That’s kind of cool.”
“Pretty cool.” She took a bite of her turkey sandwich, wiping a bit of mustard from the corner of her mouth. I didn’t even like mustard, and I wanted to lick it off for her. Funny how fast she could make me think those kind of thoughts.
I got myself back on track. “Are you feeling any better?” I asked.
“I guess so. I just wish I could shake this guilty feeling.”
“Yeah, me too. But you shouldn’t feel that way—especially when nothing has even happened yet.” I was finished eating, and I balled up the paper and tossed it into her trashcan. She applauded, then got up.
“You’re very smart like you said.”
“I know.” I watched as she came to me, then straddled my lap and settled into it. She looked so good in her skin-tight jeans—and to think, she once told me that before she came to the club, she’d never worn them before. What a crime.
She leaned in to kiss me, but I put a hand in front of my mouth. “I smell like Italian hoagie, baby. Sexy, right?”
She laughed, burying her face in my neck. “You’re right. Maybe I won’t kiss you.”
I ran my hands up and down her back, finally sliding up under her sweater. “That’s okay. I don’t need to kiss you to feel you up.”
“Thanks. So romantic.” She pulled back, giggling. It only gave me better access to her tits. She groaned pleasantly, then glanced at the closed door.
“You think anybody out there is stupid enough to come in here when the door’s closed?” I lifted her sweater, bending my head to lick the smooth skin between her tits. She gasped, arching her back.
“I’m gonna stink like a hoagie for the rest of the day,” she whispered, but that didn’t stop her from holding my head close.
“Then I shouldn’t go down on you, I guess.” She laughed, smacking my shoulders, but went back to holding me as I swiped my tongue across her tits and under the cups of her bra. I felt her nipples tighten up as her body responded to me.