by C. M. Owens
“Why are you helping me?” I ask her again, knowing how dangerous it is to trust just anyone, but desperate enough to take the chance. If she can tell me why I should.
If I go back to New York after already failing, all hell will break loose. It’s the worst option.
She faces me just as the elevator starts whisking us up.
“Because you have a lot of money, a lot of contacts in a world that will be of use to me eventually, and it’s always smart to be owed favors from someone like you. I help you, then you help me. Understood?”
That I can work with.
“Understood. How much money do you need?”
Her grin spreads again. “Nothing right now. I’ll let you know when I need to cash in on my favors. Until then, be thankful I walked over to Snake tonight. Because I’m about to save your life.”
As the doors open, I blow out a heavy breath.
“I am thankful, as long as you’re not crazy and just jerking my chain.”
She laughs again, and uses her keys to push open a door to an apartment. My breath catches when we walk into the large apartment that looks more like a conspiracy theorist’s bunker.
Guns upon guns line the walls, along with various other things—explosive things, mostly. Pictures are stabbed to the walls, and notes are taped up everywhere.
She moves to the center of the room, crossing her arms as I take in the chaos.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m possibly crazier than you. But I love my favors, and saving your life earns me a big one. I’ll keep you alive. You just make sure your word is good.”
It isn’t until I start reading the notes that I realize the most crucial detail of who has just brought me to safety. I also realize why she seemed vaguely familiar, though I’ve only seen blurred images of her until now.
Things just got a lot more interesting.
My jaw is slack, still trying to make sense of everything I’m seeing.
“It is,” I say quietly.
It’s a small fucking world as I slowly unravel exactly who Sarah is.
She’s not Sarah at all.
“Good,” she states flatly, lifting her phone. “Because your life depends on that.”
CHAPTER 6
Present…
AXLE
“They took all of it,” Drex says calmly, although I can feel the inevitable explosion crackling close to the surface.
I sit back, trying not to lose my shit. Never thought I’d want Herrin dead this badly. He was our P. Now he’s nothing but a bitch—and a dead man walking.
“Every fucking penny,” Rush growls. “How? We moved all the money to five different secure accounts. All of them were new!”
“Pop didn’t get to the top by lying down and taking things. And he didn’t get there without making numerous friends either. Someone sold us out within the club, and somehow we got hacked,” Drex says quietly.
Suddenly, he stands, and the volatile explosion I was waiting for happens as he slams his fist through the wall over and over again. Propping up, I start going through our list of members in my head, trying to figure out who would be the most loyal to Herrin.
Bottom line, it doesn’t matter right now, because we’re broke. Which means we’re fucked.
“Herrin’s smart. The best way to break us is to bankrupt us,” Jude drawls, sounding bored with the whole thing. He’s not been right since the truth came out about Sarah or AJ or whatever her name is.
A lot of shit has happened in six months. Our club split up. Drex and Herrin are on the verge of a war. Snake started using his real name after Sarah—whose real name is AJ—was outed as someone completely different than any of us expected…
It’s been a shitty half year.
“We have an order on thirty installs that would help us out, but we need to buy the supplies somehow,” Drex groans.
“The down payment should cover the installs,” I say, trying to dig us out of this hole.
We went from having more money than we could ever spend to being broke.
“We need at least sixty grand to do the installs. With the feds sniffing around, it’s hard to even keep business, much less ask for a down payment. The only way we’re keeping business is by not asking for payment until delivery,” Drex explains, frustrated.
“Feds aren’t sniffing around us right now. They’ve pulled back to look for AJ,” I say. Yeah, even I hear how stupid and desperate it sounds.
“Doesn’t matter. Pop is still attached to our name until we prove we’re done with him,” Drex growls.
“So how much we got between us?” Rush asks, tossing out a wad of cash. “I’ve got ten grand.”
It’s not like any of us keep a bank account. That’s too easy for the feds to keep tabs on. The vast majority of our funds stayed in the off-shore club account, and we personally kept our payments in cash or invested in things. Most of us just spent the shit, certain there’d always be more when we needed it.
The laundered money went into the other four accounts we recently set up. All five accounts have been emptied the hell out.
“I have maybe fifteen grand,” I announce, blowing out a breath.
“I have at least twenty grand upstairs,” Drex says, frowning. “The rest of my cash was burned in the damn fire Ben and his followers set to my house.”
“Five G’s from me,” Snake—I mean Jude says, tossing out his own wad. “I just spent a fuck ton on my new bike.”
Sledge tosses in his offerings, as well as Dash, and Drex starts counting it up.
“It might be enough for the installs, but we need more money to keep the bills paid in the meantime,” Drex says, leaning back.
“I’d say we could take some run jobs, but I doubt anyone would risk their merchandise being in our hands with the club dividing, the feds watching Herrin, and shit going to hell,” Rush says, his lips tensing.
“We’ll work it out, prove we can handle our shit no matter what, and deal with it as we can. We got that meeting this afternoon with more prospective clients that Rush vetted,” I add.
Rush runs a hand through his hair, glancing over at me.
“The guys came back without much info on them, but I talked to three sources the club trusts. All said they were legit. I’m still going with you to see if I missed anything. Last thing we need is to get mixed up with junkies right now,” he tells me.
“I’ll come with too. Make it look good with me being there,” Drex goes on. “It’s a big deal that could really dig us out of this pit right now.”
“So all four of us are going?” Jude asks, arms crossing over his chest.
Drex nods slowly. “Yeah. We need to put in the extra effort and work a little harder than usual until we can bump the funds back up. And we need to keep this as quiet as possible from the others for now. Half of them are already skittish, and as it is, we obviously have a rat. Possibly more than one.”
“Some charters are struggling to pick a side right now,” Dash chimes in. “By the way, I’ll ride out with you to meet the clients too.”
It’s just the six of us at the table. Dash, Drex, Sledge, Jude, Rush, and me. This table used to host a lot more.
“Most will side with Herrin since he’s the P,” Sledge says in a gruff tone. “But the young guns will possibly toss away their patches for a chance to come here and move up with Drex.”
Drex stands, pushing his chair back, and he presses his hands down on the table as he leans over it.
“We still have the money coming in from our businesses. I’ll cash it all out for the time being. I’ll have Liza bring the deposit bags here every night from the strip club. The salon is also in my name. I’ll have Colleen bring the bags here from it. Someone needs to escort them daily and take different routes. Multiple escorts, actually. Only guys you know you can trust.”
His phone beeps, and he pulls it out, looking at it as I turn to face Sledge.
“You know Herrin better than any of us. When’s he going to hit? And should we hit firs
t?”
He shakes his head. “You hit first, and the remaining charters will all side with him. If he hits first, you’re going to win more love, though loyalties will still be divided. Herrin is unpredictable, so there’s no telling when he’ll hit. But you can be sure it’s coming.”
“So we hit first, and we get shunned. We get hit first, and we might win some guys,” Rush states dryly. “Great fucking brotherhood we have.”
Sledge tenses just barely as he glances over at his adopted son. “What’s going on here is a fucked up situation that no one was prepared for. There’s not a rule book on how to deal with it.”
“Eve is coming in,” Drex says before pocketing his phone, and Rush closes his mouth, swallowing down whatever he was going to say.
That’s another change. Drex has an old lady now. It’s because of her that he finally understood his father wasn’t the legend or leader he thought he was.
Our eyes all cut to the door when Eve walks in, and she arches an eyebrow when she sees us.
“Do I have something on my face?” she asks, then touches her face like she’s searching for the phantom issue.
When I look away, Drex is smiling at her, and that has me rolling my eyes. He hasn’t gone soft, if that’s what you’re thinking.
“What’s the verdict?” she asks, and everyone shifts uncomfortably.
We know Eve isn’t a snitch, but giving her details is still a little too worrisome. Well, to everyone but Drex.
“The verdict is that we’re about to go scope out those potential clients I told you about. Stay here and upstairs until I get back. Lock the door, too,” he tells her firmly.
She flicks her gaze around the table, and her eyes meet his. “Be careful. Herrin is out for you. He could be setting you up.”
Sledge is the first to laugh, and I chuckle under my breath. It’s funny seeing someone worry over Drex.
He tugs her to him, his grin turning mocking as she lets him manhandle her.
“We know how to vet them,” Rush tells her acidly, but she doesn’t even pay him any attention. He runs hot and cold where Eve is concerned. More cold than hot. He hated Herrin more than any of us, so he’s thankful to her for at least getting this ball rolling.
When Drex and Eve start kissing, we all get up and walk out, because you never know when things will escalate with them, and Drex isn’t afraid of exhibition.
None of us say anything as we all go to our temporary rooms within the warehouse to get ready for the ride to meet our newest possible clients.
I collapse to my bed, covering my eyes with my arm as I try to get a few seconds of sleep. It seems like I get less and less of it the older I get.
CHAPTER 7
MAYA
“Tomorrow is the third shipment,” I tell Sarah as she stares at a knife blade like it’s fascinating.
She’s been in and out of here a lot lately, and I don’t know what’s going on.
“My team is supposed to contact me when it’s done,” I go on, expecting her to at least be curious.
She stabs the knife into the table and looks down at her phone when it chimes with a text. I know the different tunes on her phone and what they mean—that’s how much she’s been around.
“You’re ignoring me,” I decide to say as I roller skate around in a circle, trying to work out my nerves. I’ve cleared the large room out to give me room to skate in for times like these.
She looks up from her phone and smirks at me.
“How many favors do you owe me?” she asks.
“I’m sure you have an accurate tab on you somewhere,” I tell her, since she’s pretty adamant about telling me when I owe her yet another favor, though she’s yet to use any of said favors.
“You’re about to become a bank,” she says as she stands.
I skid to a halt, cocking my head. “Okay. How much do you need?”
Her grin only grows. “Not me, love. I’m using the favor for some old friends of mine. You remember Axle, don’t you?”
My stomach flips a little at just the mention of his name. Not that it should. He wouldn’t even glance at me like I was anything more than a nuisance.
Girl needs self-respect.
“Barely,” I lie, batting a hand.
She rolls her eyes before grabbing a few pistols, and starts to shove them into the holsters on her body. She’s dressed in all black. Again. Including pleather leggings—she makes them hot. And a corset. Totally hot.
Me? Not so hot.
I’m in roller skates with my hair in twin balls and my 1970’s pink socks that stop at my thighs, while I wear my pink Bubble Gum Girl T-shirt and little white exercise shorts.
We couldn’t be more opposite.
“Thought they had more money than I do,” I finally say when she stares expectantly at me.
Those are pretty much the words Drex Caine—yes, I know his name now—said to me that night.
The guns she straps on all the time used to make me wary. I’ve learned Sarah is somewhat unhinged—even more so than me.
“They had plenty of money. But shit went down. The club split in half after Drex and Herrin went toe-to-toe. Long story short, all hell broke loose, and Drex finally saw his father as the shitty little weasel he really is. Now Herrin has stolen their money. They need a bank until they get back on their feet. I have a guy who might be able to steal their money back, but that could take time.”
I spin in a tight circle on my skates before pushing off and getting closer to her. She eyes my socks for a second before looking up at me.
“I said sorority girl was a good look. Not Bubble Gum Betty.”
“This is my unwinding attire. Tonight is tense for me. Anyway, I’ll give you however much you need, and you can take it to them.”
Her expression goes blank, no emotion showing.
“I can’t. You’ll have to be the one to give it to them, and you’ll have to convince them to take it.”
My lips purse. “You have a boyfriend on the inside, and in case you’ve forgotten, they ran me out of that place. If they need money, then they shouldn’t need convincing.”
She starts putting on some ammo holsters that hold spare magazines, and I cock my head. That’s new. She doesn’t usually do that when she leaves.
My distraction is interrupted when she speaks again.
“You’ll offer them a job they can’t refuse. Not a loan. It can’t be me who offers it. Jude left me—”
“I thought his name was Snake,” I interrupt.
Her stony expression cracks, and I see the pain in her eyes. “His name is Jude. Snake was just a nickname. I was the only one allowed to call him Jude, and I only called him that when we were alone. Now he takes that special thing away by having everyone call him Jude. It’s just one of the many ways he’s letting me know we’re really over.”
Her face hardens again, and she angrily shoves on a few more holsters that take up her forearm. She bends her arms like she’s testing their flexibility or weight, and then she picks up a few knives and starts shoving them into her waist holster.
“Why’d you break up?”
Her hands pause their jerky movements, and her face stays hidden by her blonde hair as she exhales heavily.
“Because I did the one unforgivable thing.”
“You cheated?” I guess.
Her face stays hidden as she shakes her head, finishing up her dangerous attire.
“No. Worse. I lied.”
I frown at that. “Everyone lies.”
She looks at me grimly. “Trust me when I say there’s nothing worse I could have done where Jude is concerned. His past is really fucked up, and lying is at the core of that.”
“What’d you lie about?” I ask, unable to help myself.
She peers over at me. “I told him I was Sarah, and he fell in love with her. Then he found out I was AJ, daughter of Phillip Jenkins, and he didn’t love AJ. It’s that simple. Hence the reason I still prefer to be called Sarah unless I’m ex
ecuting people.”
“It’s not that simple. You’re still the same person, just under a different name.”
She straightens, and her eyes flick down to my roller skates.
“You can shoot straight, right?” she asks abruptly, lifting her gaze again.
Apparently we’re finished talking about her ex and her lost identity.
“Yeah…why?” I ask slowly, tensing a little.
“I’m cashing in on another favor. Time is too limited to bring about a group of goons and vet them to make sure they won’t sell me out before I do this, so I need your help. Just point and shoot. I’ll handle the hard work,” she goes on.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“You want me to—”
“Start making good on those favors you owe,” she finishes as I skate toward a chair that has my shoes in it. “And leave the roller skates on. You can move faster on them.”
My mouth falls open as she struts toward the door in her combat boots, and I skate out into the hallway behind her.
“What are we doing?” I hiss as I slide into the elevator with her.
She stabs a button before cracking her neck to the side. “Don’t worry. I have the hard part,” she assures me. “I just need you to take out the stragglers—which may or may not be necessary. A girl in roller skates doesn’t look too threatening, and you can chase them down easily enough.”
“Damn it, Sarah. Tell me what we’re doing! Why am I shooting someone?”
“Because you owe me,” she says simply, her gaze flicking to me. “And your life depends on helping me save the man I love from walking into a death trap.”
She grins like she didn’t just say that last sentence.
“I’ll explain the details of your next favor on the way,” she adds.
***
When I woke up this morning, I had one thing on my mind. Going to a warehouse in the middle of Nowhere, Texas was not that one thing.
Waiting outside, listening to the sound of rapid gunfire spitting inside the warehouse was also not on the docket for today.
Wearing roller skates on less than ideal concrete was so not on today’s freaking agenda!