Maverick (Carter Brothers Book 5)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  “Ah crap.” Max grabs a chicken leg out of the box, shoving it in his trap. I roll my eyes and take a seat on the floor next to the fireplace, watching everything play out. It’s what I do; I watch everything that happens and when the time is needed, I intervene.

  “I just want some food.” Harlow sniffles and my body tenses, hearing her sound so broken.

  “Max,” I warn, giving him a pointed look, my voice holding authority.

  “What?” he yells, throwing his hands up in frustration.

  “Here, have mine,” Malik offers, handing her his meal box.

  “No. I want that box,” she yells through a broken sob, pointing to the box Max is clutching to his chest.

  “I’ve got some chicken. Here, have mine.” Lake smiles softly at Harlow as she holds out her box of chicken.

  “I want that chicken,” she sobs.

  Malik, clearly finding it hard to see her so upset, gets up and snatches the box out of Max’s grip. Harlow’s head jerks up, taking the bucket of chicken quickly before Max has a chance to take it back from her. She guards it with her life as she hugs it to her chest, wasting no time in eating her chicken. She sighs blissfully, her tears subsiding.

  “Malik!” Max yells, moving forward to get his food.

  “No, eat this,” Malik snaps, handing him his meal box.

  “Fuck’s sake,” Max mumbles, moving to sit next to Lake as he sulks. She pats his leg, smiling slyly behind her burger.

  “Is that better? Do you want anything else?” Malik asks gently, rubbing Harlow’s shoulder.

  Sniffling, Harlow wipes her nose on her sleeve before looking up at Malik with wide, watery eyes. “Is there any coleslaw?”

  Malik glances around the room, searching in various bags, and I grin when I see Max trying to hide the tub of coleslaw behind him when he thinks no one is looking. Malik sees and narrows his eyes.

  “No. Fuck no!” Max snaps, giving Malik a death glare.

  “Max,” Malik snarls, holding his hand out.

  Lake’s quick, snatching it from behind Max’s back. I nearly choke on my food at Max’s wounded expression.

  “Here you go, babe,” Malik soothes, moving over to sit next to Harlow. Her mouth is stuffed with food, the bucket of chicken resting on her stomach and a meal box on her knees. She gives Malik one of her adorable smiles, her eyes glistening with tears.

  Denny laughs, shaking her head. “The way you’re eating, you’d think you were having triplets.”

  “I’m not fat,” Harlow cries, throwing her chicken bone in the box, looking angry. “I am eating for two.”

  “Yeah, and the way you act, you’d think it was my fault,” Max mumbles, still in a sour mood over his stolen food.

  “I’m just hungry,” she defends, stuffing her mouth.

  “Yeah, for my food. You’ve done nothing but eat all of my food. Don’t think I didn’t know it was you who ate my chocolate gâteau from the fridge.”

  “I had one slice.” The glare she sends him signifies his death.

  “It was a whole cake, Harlow. It wasn’t in slices,” Max says, exclaims.

  She shrugs, not seeming to care. I’ve always loved listening to them argue back and forth like this. I miss most of it because I work long hours. When I get the rundown later on, it’s not the same.

  “And it’s not just your food,” Myles laughs.

  “Yes it is,” Max responds, ducking behind his box to eat his takeaway, making sure Harlow can’t see.

  “No it’s not,” Malik tells him dryly, rolling his eyes.

  “Yes, it fucking is. This morning Joan made us all breakfast, but Harlow didn’t want her plate, she wanted mine. It had a few extra hash browns, that was all. She could have asked Joan for more or gotten some, but no! She had to have my food. In the end I had to sneak some extra hash browns off the side. I could have starved.”

  “Stop being dramatic,” Malik snaps, defending Harlow who has started sniffling again.

  “I’m just so hungry,” she tells everyone apologetically.

  “You’re eating for three. Of course you’re hungry,” I tell her gently. She beams over at me, looking grateful.

  “She doesn’t need to eat my food though. I’ve lost so much weight. I’m skin and bones. People are gonna start thinking I’m neglected. Even Lake’s mom noticed how much weight I’m losing,” Max barks, trying to sound hard done by.

  Lake nods, laughing. “No, she says that about everyone. She likes making you her beef stew.”

  “That sounds yummy,” Harlow moans, her eyes wide with hunger. I burst out laughing when Max looks ready to cry.

  “See?” Max yells, glancing around the room.

  “Sit down and eat,” I tell him, trying to breathe through my laughter.

  “Does anyone have any more popcorn chicken?” Harlow mumbles, looking around the room. Everyone’s eyes go to Max, and we all laugh when we see him tipping the whole box into his mouth before Malik has a chance to snatch it from him.

  When the laughter dies down, I turn to Mason. “Are we still closing the bar for the wedding?” I ask, double-checking so I can let Matt know.

  “Yeah, I was gonna tell Matt to put up an announcement in the window tonight so people know beforehand.”

  “Oh, Evan called earlier asking if I’d seen you. I forgot to mention it. He said to call him as soon as you can,” Denny tells me, interrupting the conversation.

  “Cheers,” I say, forcing a smile as I grab my phone out of my pocket.

  MAVERICK: Denny said you called. Can’t talk right now, I’m at home. Was it important?

  A few minutes pass before Evan replies, my phone beeping with a message alert.

  EVAN: Yeah. Meet me at the club tonight, around nine. I’ve got some work shit to sort out before I can get to you. See you later.

  MAVERICK: Is everything okay?

  MAX: hu u txtin?

  I groan, giving Max an exasperated look. He shrugs before eyeing my phone, demanding me to answer.

  MAVERICK: Evan. Why the fuck are you texting me? We’re in the same fucking room.

  MAX: I’m worried Harlow will wnt 2 eat me nxt if she keeps hearing me voice.

  MAVERICK: You’re a fucking weirdo. And will you spell fucking properly. You were brought up, not dragged up.

  MAX: I don’t know. If memory serves me correctly, I was dragged around a lot. LOL Is dat betta?

  MAVERICK: You aren’t funny. And you were only dropped on the head a few times.

  EVAN: Yeah, but it is urgent. I think I have a plan.

  MAX: Did me good then since I’m better-looking than you ugly fuckers.

  MAVERICK: Myles looks just like you! Twat. And I’m not sure. You’re texting me when we’re in the same fucking room.

  MAX: HAHA but you’re replying so wat’s dat say bout u?

  “Who the hell are you texting with a grin on your face? You look scary,” Lake tells Max, and I burst out laughing.

  “Your mum. She told me to wear those silk boxers to bed tonight,” he tells her, winking.

  “Eww, you dickhead. That’s gross.” Lake scrunches her face up in disgust, sliding away from him.

  “Not what you said last night,” he teases, pulling her to his side.

  “Oh my God, I meant the whole mum part,” she laughs.

  “Ah, I knew you thought I was sexy in those boxers.” He chuckles, playfully kissing the tip of her nose.

  I look away, shaking my head. I don’t think he’ll ever be right in the head but for some reason, you can always count on Max to cheer you up.

  Now I just have to make it until nine tonight without killing him so I can see what the hell Evan wants.

  *** *** ***

  I look at the stacks of files piled on my desk and sigh in frustration. One of my staff could very well be selling drugs laced with some chemical that’s killing the people taking them, and I can’t for the life of me figure out who would do such a thing. Every staff member went through full background checks bef
ore I hired them. I made sure their credentials were all up to date and interviewed each and every one of them myself. But still, it was one of them. Their file is sitting there in front of me, taunting me.

  Matt peeks his head around the door, a grim look on his face, knowing I’m not in the mood for any more bullshit where the club’s concerned.

  “What’s up?” I ask, closing the file I was looking at.

  “Laura Ashley is here to see you,” he tells me, his expression unreadable.

  “Who?” I scrunch my brows together as I try to put the name to a face, coming up blank.

  “The girl of the dude who died,” he whisper-yells, looking apologetic.

  My eyes widen and I gesture for him to let her come in. None of the other victims’ families have come here, but I think that has more to do with the fact that they aren’t sure where their sons or daughters died.

  “Laura.” I greet her when she appears in the doorway, getting up and gesturing for her to take a seat. She’s wearing a baggy hoody far too big for her small frame, so I can only presume it belongs to the deceased boyfriend. Her eyes are red and swollen, and she sniffles as she takes a seat, glancing around nervously. “Can I get you something? A drink?”

  Matt leaves, giving me one last apologetic look before closing the door behind him.

  “No. No, thank you,” she chokes out, a few tears escaping and rolling down her cheeks. “I… I don’t know why I came. It’s stupid, really. I guess I just wanted you to know that Luke, he wasn’t a druggie. He never touched them, not even as a teen.”

  “I didn’t think he was,” I whisper gently, hating that this woman is so distraught over something one of my staff members did, something we could have prevented if we could just figure out who it is.

  As much as I don’t trust women, seeing one of them upset guts me. I just wish there was something I could do make her feel better, to take away her pain.

  “He didn’t even want to go to the stupid stag party, but they made him. He doesn’t drink much. The most he could handle was half a pint.” She chuckles sadly, her eyes tearing up and looking distant for a second. “But the police, they said… they said he bought them. The drugs, I mean. Please, I need you to help me prove that he didn’t, that one of the lads with him spiked his drink or something.”

  “Laura, I don’t…. The police are doing everything they can.”

  “No, they’re not,” she snaps furiously. “They have the tapes from that night but said they can’t see anything incriminating. I’ve asked and pleaded with them to let me look at the tapes to see if I can find anything, but they keep refusing.”

  I hold my hand up to stop her, realising where she’s heading with this. “Laura, I don’t have the tapes,” I lie. “The police are the only ones with a copy. Let them do their job, and I promise you they’ll find out what happened to Luke. We’re working non-stop to make sure this doesn’t happen again. In the meantime, go home and get some rest.” I soften my voice by the end, knowing she needs to be handled with care.

  She nods, rubbing at her tired eyes. “Okay. Please, just…. Please get to the bottom of it.”

  Seeing her crumble is killing me. No one should have to go through this much pain. When she gets up, I follow, walking her to the door where we bump into Evan.

  “Oh hey, I didn’t realise you had company.” He looks at Laura with worried eyes. “Is everything okay?”

  “This is Laura. She’s the girlfriend of the young man who recently passed away,” I tell him, giving him a look to not question it any further.

  “I better go,” Laura mumbles.

  We watch her go with matching worried expressions. “Is she going to be okay?” he asks, reading my mind.

  “No idea,” I tell him honestly, walking back into my office and taking a seat. “She’s really torn up over her boyfriend. All of this is starting to piss me off. It’s been months and no matter how hard we try, this fucker keeps slipping through our fingers. All of the bouncers are on watch, but now it’s making me wonder if it’s one of them.”

  “About that…. It’s not one of the doormen,” Evan sighs.

  “How do you know?” I ask, sitting up straighter.

  “Because when I went over their background checks, I also spoke to their old bosses. They all said how good each one was at getting the riff-raff out of their clubs. Also, your main doorman was a Marine. Can you really see someone with honour killing innocent people with drugs, for money?”

  “True. I just feel like we’re missing something big.”

  “That’s because we are,” he admits gruffly, looking as tired and frustrated over the whole thing as I am.

  “Stop talking in fucking riddles,” I snap before sighing. “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay. I don’t have all the answers yet, but I do know there’s a bigger picture we’re not seeing. From what I could find out, there’s someone new in town who owes some bigger dealer a lot of money. Whoever it is has managed to get a hold of more drugs from another dealer, local in town, and has started selling drugs again. But because they owe so much money, they’re diluting everything with poisonous shit to make a profit.”

  “How does my club fit in? I mean, if this dealer owes a chunk of money and is new in town, then it can’t be one of my staff.” I sigh, wishing life would just give me a fucking break.

  “I don’t know how your club fits in, Mav, but if I had to guess, I’d say whoever is involved in selling the drugs either needs the money or is being blackmailed. They might just be related to whoever is doing it and they’re selling inside as a favour. I don’t fucking know. It’s driving me insane not knowing, that’s for sure. It’s never taken me this long to solve a case, not one that should be straightforward and simple.”

  “I know how you feel.” I groan. “I’ve got so much shit going on that I could’ve missed something vital. I’ve read these staff files over and over again, and nothing is popping out to me. There have been four new employees, all of whom were recommended and had background checks, but they seem fine. No problems.”

  “Which is why I think you should get someone in here to look over the girls. You need someone who can keep an eye on them.”

  “The police said exactly the same thing, but it’s finding someone I trust to help. I can’t use members of my family because everyone here already knows about them. They won’t let their guard down if one or more of my family is here looking shifty.”

  “Kennedy said there’s a new tenant living above the club. Denny mentioned her when she visited the other day. Do you think she has anything to do with this?”

  Leaning forward, my jaw clenches, my voice hard and cold when I speak. “She has fuck all to do with any of this. Keep her out of it.”

  “Whoa! Hold the fucking phone. I didn’t mean any harm. Sheesh, I didn’t even think you knew her that well.”

  Feeling bad, I grunt, getting up and pouring us both a whiskey before sitting back down. “Sorry. I’m just strung up tight. No, she hasn’t got anything to do with this. She has a daughter and from what I’ve seen, there’s no reason for her to sell drugs. And she’s not the kind of mum who would have that shit around her child.”

  “Hmm,” he mumbles, looking deep in thought. I leave him to his thoughts for a few seconds, waiting for him to carry on. “Would she think about coming in for a few hours a night? No one here knows her, right? And if they have seen her, then they’ll know she lives upstairs.”

  “Not many people know about her. They know someone moved in upstairs, but I don’t think anyone has really seen her. I could ask,” I tell him. I only want to ask for selfish reasons, needing to spend more time with her. It’s also because Evan is right; we need someone who my staff haven’t seen hanging around me. If anyone does question our friendship, then we have the tenant-landlord relationship as a cover.

  “Ask her and let me know. I need to get back. Kennedy hasn’t been feeling well.”

  “All right. I’ll see you at the wedding. You
’ll meet Teagan then since Max has forced us into going together,” I tell him, not admitting I’m glad Max did his weird shit where he gets his own way because it meant I get to take her out without feeling any pressure.

  “Ah, so it’s true.” He chuckles, knocking his knuckles on the table. “Don’t forget to let me know what’s been decided. In the meantime I’m going to keep asking around, find out if anyone knows who this new dealer is. Maybe then we’ll find a link from them to someone on your staff and finally put a stop to all of these deaths.”

  “True. Speak to you later.” I nod, letting him walk himself out.

  Once he’s gone, I pull another file off the pile and settle back in my chair, reading through it.

  I have to find something in one of these; otherwise, we’ve got nothing, and whoever this is will get away with it.

  One of these files has to give us a clue on who is doing this.

  People are dying.

  Innocent people.

  One way or another, I’m getting to the bottom of this. The fucker better pray it’s the police who finds him first and not me.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TEAGAN

  “My boobs are practically bursting out of this fucking dress,” I snap at Tish, who stands there chuckling and shaking her head in amusement over my discomfort. I’m so nervous about today that I’m actually shaking and close to throwing up.

  “You look real pretty, Mummy,” Faith says, smiling as she twirls around in her puffy princess dress.

  “So do you, sweetheart,” I tell her, returning her smile before looking back to the mirror, fussing with my dress and frowning.

  Tish made me go shopping with her on Thursday for a dress to wear to the wedding. I told her I was happy wearing a simple maxi dress, but she wouldn’t hear any of it. When she threw a bunch at me, telling me to try them on, I dismissed every single one.

  Defeated, we had come home empty-handed. But Tish, being a sly little dog, went back to the store and got me the dress I’d profusely refused, no matter how much she told me I looked stunning in it.

  “It’s supposed to look like that, you goof.” She chuckles, adding another pin in my hair. The bottom part of the gown is filled with layers and layers of light, soft cotton voile. There’s a split up one leg, leaving the rest to flow elegantly around me. The top half is thicker with glittered sequins and silver straps, the material dipping low between my breasts. I’ve topped it off with silver strappy sandals, the heel higher than I’m used to.