by S. E. Jakes
The guard opened the door. “Time’s up.”
“Great father-son bonding time,” I muttered as the guard walked him out of the room.
I blinked and it was just me again, alone in the interrogation room. Alone being the key word.
McKibbins came in about ten minutes later, when I was still turning around my father’s old proclamations in my head. As I sat here, stupid enough to have let myself get caught on purpose. For Ryker.
No compliments from the old man on this one, I’d bet.
I looked up at McKibbins warily, especially when he dragged the chair around the table to sit next to me.
“Mirror’s off,” he said, before I could tell him to do that.
“Okay.” What did he want? My undying thanks for giving me my rights? Although not all of them, because where was my phone call? I tamped down the wiseass as much as I could, but who knew how long that shit would hold?
“You’re lucky I was the one to catch you tonight,” he told me.
I shifted, but it was impossible to get comfortable with my wrists twisted. “Right, you’re my guardian angel.”
Yeah, didn’t hold long at all. But hell, McKibbins would think I had a head injury if I was normal to him.
McKibbins frowned. “Rush, you need to get the fuck out of this life before you end up like your old man.”
“Or Billy?”
He stared at me, and his voice softened. “Or buried, like Billy.”
“You think I deserve that.”
“I think neither one of you would’ve gone to Iraq if you hadn’t started stealing.”
I wasn’t getting into that, because we’d never, ever see eye to eye. “So mentioning my father’s supposed to scare me straight?”
“For Billy, Rush. For Billy.” He spoke through clenched teeth and my gut twisted. Billy would hate him for doing this to me, for using his name like this.
“Billy never judged me, or anyone. Even you,” I said quietly, and that was the God’s honest truth.
McKibbins’s expression tightened, but he ignored my words. “You’ve been running with Havoc MC.”
“I wouldn’t say that, no.” Because that was also the truth.
“You’ve been spotted with Ryker.”
I shrugged. “I don’t even know his last name.” Another truth.
“You are spending time with him, fixing his bike.”
“We’re fucking. Is that against the law now?” I asked.
“Depends on what you’re doing.” I swore I saw the hint of a smile on his face, like he was making a joke, but then he sobered. “Rush, what do you know about Havoc’s activities?”
“I know they ride motorcycles,” I said innocently.
“Fucking can’t help yourself,” he muttered. “Rush, Havoc runs a car theft ring—they steal and export expensive luxury cars out of the country.”
I tried not to react. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right. I’m actually going to believe you on that. I’ve got no proof, other than what I’ve suspected for years. But we’ve never been able to make a connection, not the way we’ve been able to connect Edmund to things. But when Havoc brought you in . . .”
“I’m not in Havoc.”
“Coincidence that they started hanging out with a car thief?” he asked. I’d been thinking the same thing.
“They’re not hanging out with me. Ryker is.”
He stared at me like I was the most naive person on earth. “Hanging around Ryker is hanging around with Havoc. You want to know what I think? Either they’re looking to hire you or to kill you.”
“Kill me?”
“They’re not Boy Scouts, Rush. And they don’t appreciate competition.”
A chill ran through me. “I don’t pose a threat. I’m out.”
“Bullshit.”
Yeah, it was. And Ryker knew I was still stealing and racing. “If an MC I’d known about my whole life was into stealing cars, wouldn’t I know about it?”
“Obviously not.”
Now the question was, did Noah know about Havoc and the ring? Because reason stood to follow that Edmund did, hence his freak out when he discovered I was involved with Ryker. And that would be a really good reason to try to kill me . . . but a really good reason to leave me the hell alone too.
Either way, they’d gotten Havoc suspicious. But no one said you needed to be a brain trust to manage thieves. You just had to dangle the right carrots, and we’d come running. “Why are you sharing all of this with me?”
“Thought you might be interested in helping.”
“Why’d you think that?”
“Rush, I’ve been goddamned pleasant as hell, trying to get this through your thick skull. You’re a thief, but you’re nothing like these MC guys. You have no idea the kind of shit they do. And trust me when I say, if you don’t get me information, you’re going down the way you should’ve a long time ago.”
“What, I’m supposed to waltz in and ask them?”
“You could. Maybe when you and Ryker are having a quiet moment. Although you’ll need to be wearing this, so that probably won’t work well.” He pulled a wire out of his pocket. He held up the thickest part. “This is the microphone. Position it out like this. Don’t put tape over the microphone.”
“I’m not wearing that. Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I need information I can take to the DA. They’re not going to take the word of a car thief.” He paused, stared at the chains on my wrists. “Do this, and I’ll wipe this latest incident off your record.”
Anger coursed through me.
Of course it was true—my gut had told me weeks ago that Ryker was lying. I’d grown up with the MC around me. I’d heard a million rumors, but never this one. Was I the only one who didn’t know Havoc was into stealing cars?
How had they kept it so quiet?
Because they use disposable guys, like you. Like Ryker accused Edmund of doing.
Dammit. I took the wire from him and nodded. He clapped me on the shoulder and left. I didn’t even bother to ask him how long he planned on keeping me here like this, because I wanted him gone.
I wasn’t going to spy on Havoc or Ryker, but I was going to find out what was happening, if it killed me. Which it might.
In my world, snitches were the worst. I’d gone to juvie because of porn guy turning me in for beating him up, mainly to keep me from hunting him down and killing him. And my whole life depended on people keeping confidences, from childhood through the Army. I could understand Ryker’s need as well, but he sure as fuck didn’t need to use me.
A brief knock on the door, followed by sounds of men arguing—and I swear there was a chair or something heavy thrown against the two-way mirror because I heard some kind of crack. It all had me craning my neck to see what was going on. I half expected Ryker to barge in, but it was actually Jethro who came banging inside.
He looked pissed. He was out of breath, and fuck, I hope all of that wasn’t directed my way.
I tensed when he slammed the door behind him and came over to me. He leaned down and looked at me, and his eyes were angry when he murmured, “The ATF didn’t bail you out—the guy who races for the Hangmen did, got that?”
I nodded. Because angry or not, this was a good thing. I think.
Jethro motioned to the mirror and then another cop came into the room.
“Meet you outside after you get your stuff,” Jethro told me, and I guessed Ryker wasn’t out there at all.
The cop unlocked the cuffs, and I flexed my wrists, rubbed my hands together to get the blood flowing. He motioned for me to follow him, and I did, stuffing the wire into my pocket. I collected my wallet and keys from the desk clerk, and then I was free and in Jethro’s car, the same one he’d raced against me that first night we’d met.
He gunned it away from the police station, and once we got onto the highway, I turned to him. “If you go to the bank, I’ll pay you back.”
“Why? You’re jumping bail?
”
“No.”
“Relax. I just said that so McKibbins would think it. The chief knows who I am. There’s no real bail involved here. This will just go away, for all intents and purposes.”
I frowned. “But I didn’t give you Noah.”
“Noah turned himself in to me today,” he explained.
“And if he hadn’t?”
Jethro shook his finger at me. “Think about this before you make fun of someone’s vintage T-shirts again.”
“You’ll help him?”
“Of course I will. No one knows he came to me but me. He’s not snitching on anyone. I’m just extricating him from his situation with that asshole, Edmund. Once Edmund’s out of the way, my job’s easier.” He glanced over at me. “Really, Rush, your friend’s okay. He did this as much for you as for him, you know.”
I nodded. But I was all goddamned hollowed out inside. “Is it true about Havoc and the car theft ring?” He didn’t say anything. “You knew.”
Jethro glanced at me. “So did you.”
That was fair.
“You going to see Ryker?” he asked after a few minutes.
“Yes.”
“I’m not going anywhere near Havoc with you. I’ll drop you at your place to get your own ride there.”
Once he did, I sat in my truck and brooded for a while before I started driving. I guess I couldn’t be trusted or accepted. That hurt enough. But the worst part of the betrayal? I understood it. I could fuck up Havoc and everything they’d built because of my reputation. My compulsion to steal. The way I understood it, my rep would bring unwanted scrutiny to Havoc. And I’m pretty sure I understood the reason why they kept the car thefts so far under wraps. That had to fund whatever they were doing to help the kids.
So I’d make it easy on Ryker. Easy and believable. Because that kid’s face flashed in front of my face. That kid could be me, or Ryker, or Billy, or Noah, but I’d be damned if he wouldn’t have a chance at normal. A chance for a family.
yker knew I was coming. The front gate had to call ahead to Ryker to get the okay for me to come in. But my truck, unlike most vehicles around here, was really goddamned quiet. And plenty fast. I pulled along the side of the house and walked up to the porch. The screen was closed, but the main door was open, and I heard them talking.
“He’s a time bomb, Ryk.” Sweet’s voice. I stilled and listened, because I needed to know this shit.
“I know.”
“And what the hell does that mean for Havoc? He’s not going to stop taking chances.”
Ryker didn’t say anything. Didn’t defend me. Because really, everything Sweet said was true. It wasn’t like he was saying I was an asshole. He was just outlining . . . me.
And me and Havoc? Not a great fit.
I went back and stamped noisily up the porch, calling for Ryker. He and Sweet came out immediately.
“Sean, are you all right? Jesus . . .” Ryker grabbed for me, inspecting me.
“I’m fine. McKibbins didn’t try anything. Nothing physical, anyway,” I said. Ryker led me inside, sat me down, and handed me a soda and a roll. It was almost five in the morning.
Sweet followed us in, sat at the table across from us. And I’d have to play this really well.
I dug into my pocket and threw the wire on the table.
“What the fuck, Sean?” Ryker demanded when he saw it.
“It’s not active,” I said. “I took the battery out already. And how do you know what it is?”
He didn’t answer that, merely dug into his pocket and pulled out a similar wire. “McKibbins’s partner came to see me.”
“So what, he’s pitting us against each other?”
“Said he’ll leave Havoc alone—you’re McKibbins real target. Have been for years.”
Jesus. There was a hell of a lot of truth in that. I ran my fingers through my hair and said, “He said you guys were into illegal shit.”
“Did he mention Charles, or anything about witnesses?” Sweet asked and I couldn’t leave him hanging about that.
“No, not a word. He seemed to have something specific in mind, but he wouldn’t say it. Is there something about the porn that he might be confused about?” I asked.
Ryker shook his head. “That’s all buttoned-up.”
“Rush, can you give us a few minutes?” Sweet asked.
“I’ll wait outside.” On Ryker’s porch, I put my hands on the rails and stared out at the darkened field of crocuses.
A few seconds later, a bike’s tailpipe backfired or maybe someone was practicing with their rifle. Everything echoed in these hills, and it didn’t matter. I winced, because I knew—I knew—it wasn’t Iraq or insurgents but I couldn’t stop my goddamned mind from going there. I gripped the porch rails, knowing that if I couldn’t go inside, it would get worse.
But with Ryker and Sweet inside, it was better to have the fucking meltdown out here. With any luck, it’d pass before they came out. Or maybe I could keep it away by the sheer force of will.
“Sean . . . hey, Sean, it’s me. It’s okay.” Ryker’s voice, and he was doing a pretty damned good impression of Noah’s mental patient voice. The fact that I could think that told me this episode wasn’t all that bad. But still, I was gripping the porch railing so hard I was sure either it or my hands would break. They ached from the pressure.
Ryker was close. I don’t know where Sweet was. But Ryker’s hands were on top of mine, rubbing, urging me to unclench them, and I did. Not before saying, “It’s my fault Billy’s dead.”
“I don’t believe that, Sean.”
“McKibbins does.”
“He’s grieving. Looking for someone to blame.”
“Well, he found that person pretty easily, because I am.” I jerked away from him and turned around fast on him.
He circled me carefully, like I was some feral animal. Which I was.
I was also broken. Maybe I’d always been and could just admit it now.
“Sean, come on. Come sleep.”
“No. No more rescuing me.” I’d come here to tell Ryker I was leaving. He should be kicking me out of Havoc now, but he wasn’t.
“Okay, no more rescuing,” he agreed. “As long as you come inside.”
“You’re just saying that. You won’t stop,” I told him, fisting my hands to get rid of some of the agitation. “Don’t you get it? Noah’s bulletproof—he’s the one guy I don’t fuck up and kill. You—”
“Sean, please. Let’s not—”
“Do this now?” I finished for him. I knew he was right and that bothered me the most. “You don’t control me, as much as you want to.”
“It’s not about me wanting to, babe. It’s about you wanting me to.”
“Fuck that. I’m not walking around on a leash four paces behind you.”
“I never asked that,” Ryker said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want that. I want you.”
I was cold. Freezing. Didn’t want to be here when I came down from this part. I wanted icy rage, not icy fear gripping me in frozen fingers.
He was still saying my name, but it sounded far away. I was probably running by that point. My body was full of adrenaline and terror that nothing—no one—could’ve stopped me. I was bathed in sweat. Shaking. Anger and pain, and I’m not sure if he found me or if I found him. I was numb by that point. Didn’t apologize, and he didn’t ask for one. All I knew was that I was in the tub, curled up, and he was using a washcloth to sponge water over my back and shoulders, until I sat back—submerged.
When the water threatened to chill, he ran more. I stayed in until I pruned and then I got up and dried and dressed. And then I told him, “This can’t work,” my voice sounding dull and distant.
He never answered me, and I fell asleep in his arms.
went into Greta’s place with Ryker. She hugged me again and a couple of guys patted me on the back. Even the guys I recognized as the ones I’d fought with earlier in the week nodded in my direction.
“Hey, Rush, you gonna help me fix a car today? A sweet ’67 Chevy. I can’t get her to turn over,” BFFL-Tug said.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll help.” After he left, and the food came, I picked at it, and Ryker watched me, the concern in his eyes too much to take. Finally, I stood and walked outside, and he followed.
“What’s up, Sean? The wiretap shit still bothering you?”
“Little bit, yeah.” I stuck my hands in my pockets. “Is it all right to help Tug and those guys with the car?”
“Yeah, of course. More than all right.”
“I wasn’t sure how Sweet felt about me helping out with that stuff.”
“He’s grateful someone knows what they’re doing with the cars.”
“Really?” I crossed my arms. “Because I’d think a place that specializes in stealing high-end cars and shipping them overseas would know exactly what they’re doing.”
He stared at me. I waited for the denial, but none came this time.
“So these guys, they pretended to know nothing about cars just to test me?” I asked.
“Sean—”
“It’s a yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome.”
“I can’t trust everyone I fuck with this information.”
I froze. “Wow. I’m sure it’s a pretty long list.”
“Before you, it was. I’m sure yours was too, before me.”
“How do I know you’re not lying about that too?”
“It’s not like you introduced yourself as a car thief.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because I didn’t deny it when you found out.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m learning that it always is with you, Ryk.” I’d seen no signs of it at Havoc. Cars, not bikes, but they’d asked me to show them things. And like an idiot, I had. Was that the way they kept everyone unsuspecting?
What kind of idiot was I? “You set up all that shit about fixing Sweet’s car to throw me off track. Was Havoc going to compete for the same jobs as Edmund?”
“Eddie’s a fucking lowlife. He needs to pack up and leave town.”
“Taking my job with him.”
“His jobs were killing you,” he reminded me.