Legacy - Night Horde SoCal 3

by Sarah Osborn

  “Nope. But it's just the way it is.”

  “So how come Samson gave you a beatdown after... After what happened with us?”

  Joe shrugged. “Samson loves you, an' he knew that I was way outta line.” He chuckled. “Reckon that was the worst beating that ugly fuck ever gave me.” Pulling her closer, he pressed his lips against her hair. “I deserved it.”

  “If he hit Emma, would you do the same?”

  “He'd never raise his hand to her. That ain't his way.”

  “It isn't your way, either.”

  “No, it ain't. I won't ever forgive myself for the shit I put you through.”

  “I forgave you a long time ago.” She slipped her hand inside his tee shirt and snuggled closer. “You're a good man, Joe Taylor. Even when you're fucking up monumentally.”

  FOURTEEN

  “Tiny? Where you at?”

  Tiny rolled out from under the Beemer. “Boss?”

  “We need to have a little chat.” Vince folded his arms and leaned against the workbench.

  “I'm kinda busy, right now. How about I swing by the club on my way home?” Tiny had known that the fact that the chapter had voted against getting into bed with Moretti wouldn't stop his President from pushing this deal forward.

  “Wanna talk in private. Now.”

  “Okay.” He sighed. Vince was really beginning to grate on his nerves, but he was his President and he knew better than to argue. “Gimme five minutes to clean up. I'll see you in my office.”

  There was probably nowhere that reflected Tiny's personality more than the small office at the rear of the garage. Everything was filed neatly away. There were no posters or girly calendars on the walls – just a yearly planner, a dry-erase board and a small monochrome painting of a twisted, deformed torso – and the only things on his desk were a big diary, an ancient computer, the phone and three framed photographs: one of Beth and the kids, one of his ma and one of Amy. He sat behind the desk and indicated that Vince should do the same. “What's this all about, boss?”

  “Been talking to Moretti. He ain't happy with the club's decision, but still wants to do business with us. For now, he's prepared to take care of things in San Diego, but he has a little laundry he needs help with. Thought perhaps this place...”

  “Oh, no, Vince. This place is legit.”

  “Which makes it ideal.”

  “Answer's no, boss. No way Davy would agree to this.”

  “Then don't ask him. Ain't like he'll notice. He spends more time rocking on his porch and drinking than he does here.”

  “He still owns sixty percent of the business, an' I owe him. Sorry, you're gonna have to find someone else.”

  “Could make you both a lot of cash, Tiny.”

  “It could also get us both in the joint. Moretti will have to find somewhere else to clean his dirty money.”

  “Can't say I ain't disappointed. Moretti is well connected, and those connections could benefit the club.”

  Tiny shrugged. “Reckon it's more that the club could benefit him. He could drag us into more shit than we can handle, boss.”

  “Just think about it, is all I'm saying.” Vince picked up the photograph of Beth and the kids. “Reckon they'll need all the money you can get.”

  Once alone, Tiny straightened the picture and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Vince was right about them needing the money. The rental from their house in Seattle only just covered the mortgage on their place and the loan Beth had taken out to pay for his share of the business. The cost of a caregiver for his ma ate into a big chunk of his earnings, and now it was looking like any therapy that Alice might need wasn't covered by their insurance. To say they were struggling financially was an understatement, and until Beth was in a position to go back to work, he couldn't see things improving.

  He couldn't risk this business, though. Davy was a good guy, who'd worked hard all his life and had probably never as much as gotten a speeding ticket. Tiny had given his word that the club would play no part in the running of the repair shop, and the old-timer had given him the chance to build a future for his kids.

  He'd be lying if he said it wasn't tempting, though.

  ~ oOo ~

  It was late when he finally got home. He wasn't in a position to turn down work, but he hated that it meant Beth was stuck with the kids all day.

  He pulled off his boots and headed for the living room, where she and the kids were watching TV. “Hey, sorry I'm late, time kinda ran away with me.”

  “That's okay.” She smiled and, touching Alice's shoulder, signed. “Show Daddy what you can do.”

  The little girl looked up at him, then struggled to her feet.

  It was only three steps, before she sat heavily on her ass, but his little Alice had walked. Joe swallowed and crouched down in front of her. “You walked.”

  She nodded and beamed.

  “You want a hug?”

  She nodded again, and held out her arms.

  Beth grinned. “She managed to get all the way across the room earlier, but I think she's worn herself out.”

  She'd walked. His little Alice – his Angel – had walked. Joe blinked and swallowed again as he buried his face in her curls. “She can walk.”

  “Yep. I think she's going to be alright.”

  FIFTEEN

  According to her teachers, Abi was popular and well liked. But there was no evidence of that at her birthday party. Of the seven friends she'd invited, only two had turned up.

  Beth was well aware of the reason behind this. It was the same reason the other moms snubbed her at the school gates, and the reason for the whispers whenever she went to the store. Abi's father was a Freak, and her mother, a biker whore. It didn't matter that the little girl was top of her class, or that her mom had a law degree. It didn't even matter that Joe kept their cars on the road and was doing all he could to build a future for his family. To the good folk of Bay View, anyone associated with the club should be avoided at all costs – unless, of course they had something they needed.

  It wouldn't have been an issue in Seattle, or even if they'd settled in Fillmore, but Bay View was tiny, and it was impossible to be anonymous, and as a result, her daughter was trying to be brave and not show her disappointment as she opened her presents.

  Joe stood behind her and put his hands on her hips. “We'll make it up to her.”

  “How? It's not fair, Joe. She's being punished for who we are.”

  “For who I am. Guess the club ain't exactly popular.” He kissed her neck. “She'll be okay, Beth.”

  “I know. I just wish....”

  “She'll be okay.”

  Beth wondered if he was trying to convince himself. Smiling, she leaned back against him. “You going to light the barbecue? The girls want hot dogs.”

  “Hot dogs it is, then.” He bent and tapped Alice on the shoulder. “You want to come with me?”

  This was what those stuck-up bitches at the school gates should see: a proud dad waiting patiently as his kid struggled to her feet and walked outside with him. Yes, he was a Freak, and yes, he was a dangerous man. But he was a father and would never do anything to hurt his kids.

  ~ oOo ~

  He was so proud of his little angel as she doggedly followed him across the yard. Sometimes it looked as if her leg wasn't where she thought it would be, and she'd end up on her ass, but each time she fell, she'd get back to her feet, and she refused to take his hand when she stumbled. She faced a life of challenges, but Joe had no doubt that the tough little cookie would meet any obstacle head on.

  He grinned as Imi trotted over and, taking her sister's hand, led her to the little play house at the bottom of the yard. “Play nice, Imi.” She would, of course. Imi was the drama queen of the family, but the bond with her twin was unbreakable, and they would play together for hours using a sign language that none of the rest of the family understood. He dreaded to think what they'd get up to when they got older.

  Keeping one eye
on his daughters, Joe lit the barbecue, then wandered over to a seat under a tree. He should spend more days like this – him and his family – to keep himself grounded, if nothing else. Maybe he was getting old, but these days, even the wildest parties at the clubhouse held a lot less appeal than an afternoon spent with his kids.

  “Dad. Phone.” Luke ran over and handed him his cell.

  “Thanks, son.” Joe pressed answer and wandered back over to the barbecue. “Vince.”

  “Tiny. I need you at my place.”

  “Sorry, boss. It's my kid's birthday. Can't make it.”

  “I ain't asking. Get your ass over here.”

  “Can't it wait? I just fired up the barbecue, an' it ain't fair to leave Beth with the kids.”

  “No, Tiny. It can't.”

  “Fine, I'll be there in an hour.”

  “Make in sooner. I got someone I want you to meet, an' he don't like to be kept waiting.”

  “An hour, boss. I gotta take care of things here.” He hung up before Vince had a chance to argue.

  ~ oOo ~

  Beth was pissed. She wouldn't say anything, of course—that wasn't her way. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll be as quick as I can.”

  “It's not me you should be apologizing to.” She brushed his hand away. “Abi was really looking forward to having you around.”

  “She'll be fine.”

  “You keep telling yourself that.” She grabbed the jug of lemonade and headed for the back door. “Just go, Joe. You know how Vince doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

  It was only a ten minute ride to Vince's place, but in a somewhat futile act of defiance, Tiny decided to take Beth's cage and stop for treats for the kids on the way. As he crossed the lot outside the store, the sound of approaching bikes stopped him in his tracks, and he turned and watched as Fox and Spider rode by. Vaguely, he wondered what the nomads were doing in town – last he'd heard they were in Vegas – then quickly dismissed them from his mind as he headed into the store. Maybe candy would be enough to make Abi forgive him for bailing.

  ~ oOo ~

  “Tiny. Come on in.” Gloria kissed him on the cheek and led him into the kitchen. “Beer?”

  “Nah. I ain't staying.”

  “I'm sure you have time for one.” A lifetime of watching for people's weaknesses told Tiny she probably had a couple of broken ribs. She pulled a beer from the fridge and passed it to him. “Vince is in his den. Go on through.”

  Leaving the untouched bottle on the table, he pushed open the den door without knocking. “Boss.”

  “Tiny, sit down.” Vince turned to a suited man sitting on the sofa opposite. “Mr. Moretti, this is my brother Tiny.”

  “Tiny.”

  “Mr. Moretti.”

  “Call me Valentino. We're all friends here.”

  “What's this all about, Vince? I got a birthday party I should be at.”

  Moretti leaned forward. “Vince tells me you have a partnership in a garage in town.”

  “He tell you I ain't interested in cleaning your dirty money as well?”

  “He mentioned it, yes. He also tells me there's a vacant plot next to it that would be ideal as a used car lot.”

  “We don't sell cars, Mr Moretti. It's just a repair shop.”

  “So you're not interested in expanding? Could be very profitable for you. I hear you have a sick kid. I'm sure you must worry about the future for her. Surely more money would help.”

  “She ain't sick. She has cerebral palsy, an' my family has nothing to do with you. Neither does my business.” Tiny stood. “I don't know what little scheme you two are cooking up, an' if the club votes to go along with it, I won't argue. But my business and my family are off limits. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Sit down, Tiny. Listen to what Valentino has to say.”

  “You got two minutes. Talk fast.”

  “What I'm suggesting is that you expand into car sales. The club and I will front the money to set it up and run it, but it will be yours on paper. You don't have to do anything, Tiny. Just sit back and take your cut.”

  “No.”

  “The risks are minimal, I assure you.”

  “No. My share of the business is in my ol' lady's name, an' my partner is a straight up guy. I won't have them dragged into this. Find someone else to front your laundering scheme.” He glanced over to Vince. “Maybe your ol' lady would like to start her own business.”

  “My ol' lady don't have anything to do with club business.”

  “And neither does mine.” Vince opened his mouth to speak, but Tiny raised his hand. “Not up for discussion, boss. Now if that's everything, I'd like to go home to my family.

  SIXTEEN

  Deke shifted his daughter onto his other hip and picked up his cell. “Yo, brother. What's up?”

  “Tell me everything you know 'bout Moretti.”

  “I thought you'd voted against getting into bed with that slimeball.”

  “We did. But he ain't giving up that easily, an' Vince is pushing hard.”

  “What does he want?” Deke handed Lottie to Emma and wandered out back.

  “He's looking for somewhere to wash his dirty money.”

  “Tiny, you're gonna have to tread very carefully. Moretti has got some very powerful friends – family – I got a feeling he's looking to branch out on his own, an' I'm guessing they ain't gonna be too happy when they find out. The club could find itself in a ton of shit. Is Vince planning on taking this to the club?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Stall him if you can. I'll make a few calls. See what I can find out.”

  “Thanks, brother.”

  “Anytime. Take care. Give my love to Beth and the kids.”

  “Is everything okay?” Emma was stirring something in a bowl with Lottie on her hip – another skill he'd yet to master.

  “I dunno. You want me to take her?” Without waiting for an answer, he retrieved his kid. “I'm gonna swing by Bugs' place. I need to get his take on this.”

  “Deke, can't Tiny take care of this? Surely what happens in Bay View...”

  “I dunno, Emma. I wish I could say yes, but I've got a bad feeling that shit is going to go down and the chapter will find themselves way over their heads. Tiny's worried, an' I wanna help.”

  “Help how?”

  He shrugged and kissed Lottie's head. “I don't plan on jumping in front of any bullets, but I might need to hit the road for a while. There's some people I'd like to talk to, an' they ain't the sort of conversations you have over the phone.”

  “When you say for a while...”

  “I dunno, a week. Maybe a little more.” He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair. “If I can avoid it, I will.”

  “I know.” She laid her hand on his chest. “You want to eat before you go to Bugs'?”

  “Sure. How about I give this one her bath, an' put her to bed first.”

  “Deke...”

  “It'll be okay, Emma.”

  ~ oOo ~

  “I don’t like this, Bugs.” Samson paced around his President's living room. “Why would Moretti want to use the Freaks? If we ain’t careful we’re gonna get sucked into something bad.”

  “This could be a one off. Maybe all Moretti wants is the kind of muscle the Freaks provide.” Bugs took a long pull on his cigarette. “An' the chapter voted against it. He could be just putting feelers out as far as the money laundering goes.”

  Samson shook his head. “You know there’s more to it than that. I reckon I’m gonna have to do some digging. I‘ll give Jez a call, it's been a while since I‘ve been to Vegas.”

  “You sure about this, Samson? It could be adding fuel to the fire.”

  “Maybe it will.” He shrugged. “But I know Moretti. If he’s using the Freaks to do his dirty work, it’s because he wants to distance himself from any shitstorm that might follow. There are people in Vegas I can talk to, it might give us a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”

  “Can’t Je
z ask around?”

  “No. This has to be me. I’m owed a favor or two, an’ it’s time I collected.”

  Bugs sighed. “We keep this quiet, just between the two of us for now. This is Bay View's decision, and Vince ain't gonna be happy if he thinks Seattle is getting into his shit. As far as anyone is concerned, this will be just a social call.”

  SEVENTEEN

  In the past, Samson would have made the run to Vegas in two days, and if he really had to, could've done it in a single hit. Now, though, he spread the journey over three days. There was no real urgency, and although he could ride for over eight hours on two consecutive days, his back and shoulder wouldn't like it much. It did mean he'd be away from home a little longer, and he did feel a little guilty, but Emma had insisted that she and Lottie would be fine. She knew that this wasn't a social call – he wasn't prepared to lie to her – and although she worried, Emma didn't push for details. All she asked was that he didn't take unnecessary risks, something he fully intended to agree to. He was there to do some discreet digging, nothing more.

  As he pulled up outside the ornate gates of a palatial residence just outside town, he couldn’t quite push down the flutter of fear in the pit of his stomach. He’d called in an awful lot of favors to obtain an audience with the man who lived behind those gates on such short notice. He figured, though, if you wanted answers, the place you were going to get them was at the top.

  “What do you want, buddy?” The gorilla at the gate looked him up and down.

  He killed the engine. “Name’s Samson, I got an appointment with Mr De Luca.”

  The gate swung open and the gorilla waved him through. “Mr De Luca is expecting you.”

  Never before had Samson seen so much marble. It was everywhere. As he stood, getting relieved of his weapons by the two goons who were guarding the front door, he couldn’t help but gaze in awe. The whole hallway was a temple to bad taste, and he was pretty sure the rest of the house would look the same. Of course he was no expert in interior design; then again, neither was the person who decorated this place.

  “Okay, follow me.” Swallowing, he followed the guard across the huge expanse of floor and into an impressive, but more subtle, office.