by Debra Kayn
The sheriff slid the documents into his folder. "I'll just be a minute. Don't go anywhere."
Once the sheriff sat in his car running the license, Cam turned to Jeremy. "While you wait, memorize another rule. That bike doesn't leave your sight. You don't run, unless your life is threatened."
"Shit," Jeremy whispered. "What if he knows my license is a fake?"
"Keep your mouth shut." Cam turned around, lifted his chin toward Christina, and watched her bounce down off the porch toward him.
She came to his side. He put his arm across her shoulders. It wasn't lost on him that they looked like a fucking normal family. Him, a felon. Her, a kidnapped ex-social worker, and the kid...more trouble than Cam needed at the moment.
Sheriff Colby returned and handed Jeremy his license and registration. Cam, using the same arm wrapped around Christina, leaned over and slapped Jeremy on the back of the head. "Tell him thank you."
"Thanks," Jeremy mumbled.
"Son." Sheriff Colby removed his sunglasses. "Because your license is up to date and the bike is registered to your father, I'm going to leave you with some advice. The next time you run away from law enforcement, you'll be charged with evading arrest. Today, I'll let you go with a lecture."
Jeremy's gaze went to his feet. Cam gritted his teeth. A bullshit charge if he'd ever heard one, and he'd heard a few.
"Why were you stopping him?" Cam asked, checking his temper.
Sheriff Colby raised his brows. "I only wanted to let him know he was leaking gas all the way down Main Street. Though, usually when kids run, they're guilty. You might want to talk with him."
Cam's hand twitched and he lifted his chin in acknowledgement. He had no love for law enforcement, and he hoped the sheriff wasn't profiling a kid, because he happened to be riding a Moroad MC motorcycle.
"Have a good day," Sheriff Colby said, taking his leave.
The sheriff walked to his SUV. Cam turned Christina around and caught Jeremy's eye. Guilt sat heavy on the kid's shoulders. Maybe this was a lesson for him to make sure he switched the damn gas tank over.
Cam smacked Christina's ass. "Go ahead and get supper going. I'm going to run the kid to town, fill up his tank, and have him pick up his motorcycle. The guys are coming over tonight, so if they start rolling in before I get home, they can wait outside."
"Okay." She rubbed Jeremy's shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Jeremy said, inhaling deeply. "Now I am."
"Go wait by my bike, kid." Cam pushed Jeremy toward the yard and turned to Christina. "Don't baby him."
"He's not an adult yet." She softened her voice. "He's scared."
"He'll grow up." He hooked his finger in the scoop of her T-shirt and leaned down. "Give me a kiss."
She kissed him. He held her there until she dipped her tongue in his mouth. Once he got her taste, he pulled back. "Remember not to let any of the guys in the house when I'm gone."
She nodded. He walked across the yard, thinking it was bad timing for Jeremy to get his first taste of fear riding a motorcycle. The chain ran tonight, and he needed the kid alert and using his head. One fuck up and they'd all be wasting time in prison.
Chapter Twenty Two
Stacks of money sat on the kitchen table. Christina put her pen down and stared at Cam. He lived in an old house that needed repairs and spent most of his adult life in prison. The figure amounts in her columns told a different story than the poor ex-convict who was trying to survive on little security.
Cam caught her looking. "Don't think. Don't touch. Just do what I've shown you, and then the money disappears."
"You scare me." She rubbed her face. "I don't know what I'm getting into."
He opened the backpack and began to put the money inside. "There are almost two hundred members of Moroad MC. We support the ones on the inside, too. Eighty percent of them will never find a full time job once they get out. Nobody wants to hire a felon, and some of them need a private lawyer to stay alive."
The amount of members surprised her. Cam should be running a huge company, not a motorcycle club. Every investor took a cut, and every man worked for Moroad in their own way. Whether that was in the silver mine, under the table, or inside the prison...doing what, she didn't know. That left those who were living in society, but not holding down a reputable job.
"So, these runs you go on will always be what you call a job, right?" she asked.
"Yeah." He zipped up the bag and hefted it over his shoulder. "Do me a favor. When Jeremy gets back, have him take those envelopes over to Gunner. He's expecting him, so make sure he leaves right away."
"Do you even know where Jeremy is?" She leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms.
"No." Cam walked around the table and kissed her. When she refused to kiss him back, he lifted her chin. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know." She closed her eyes and kissed him with more enthusiasm. "It's just me, I guess."
"Can whatever it is bothering you wait until later when I have time to listen?"
She waved her hand. "Yeah, go."
"Sure?"
"I'm fine." She smiled and kissed him again. "Baby steps, right?"
"Right." He eyed her in concern. "Okay. I'll only be gone an hour, two at the most."
"Okay." She picked up the ledgers. "I'll go put these away, and then I'm going to catch up on laundry. Stache keeps bringing his pile of dirty clothes over, because his washer's broken at his rental."
He patted her ass. "Remember, no one comes in the house when I'm gone."
"Got it." She followed him to the front door.
Cam left, and she walked upstairs. After putting the books back inside the wall, she secured the plank and hung the picture. Out of sight, out of mind.
She shook off the stress of working with more money than she normally saw in two years, and the knowledge that she'd see the same amount or more every two weeks living with Cam.
In the hallway, she glanced in Jeremy's room. She changed directions and went inside. Teenage boys weren't known to keep their rooms tidy, but how could he sleep with the sheet half off his bed and the comforter laying on the floor amongst his dirty clothes he was asked to bring down this morning, and didn't?
She stripped his bed, put every piece of clothing on the floor in the empty basket, and carried it downstairs. Cam needed to talk with Jeremy about the basics of running a household. While she often thought Cam allowed Jeremy too much freedom, he needed a structured life with chores, responsibilities, and assurance that he was part of the family.
Family?
She turned the wash machine on and listened to the water fill the tub. Maybe she was projecting her own feelings of not belonging onto Jeremy and Cam's relationship. Lately, Jeremy seemed to fit in better than she did, and he seemed happy...for a teenager.
She still had no idea where she belonged in Cam's life or what their goal for the future was together. Cam rubbed off on her, because she actually found herself living day by day when Cam was around to distract her.
She left the utility room and went into the living room. The hollowness that often came about when Cam was gone from the house settled in her chest. She sat down on the couch and propped her feet on the old, scarred coffee table. To figure out what the future held for her, she'd have to understand what her goals were.
Did she want a permanent relationship? Kids? A home? Security?
Laughter bubbled inside of her and she let it out. The humor in her situation was almost unbelievable. She leaned over and let her head rest on the arm of the couch, still laughing. She sounded insane, finding amusement by herself with no one around.
She'd spent days, even waking up from sleeping to worry about what was happening between her and Cam. What she wanted in her future, Cam had given her before they even entered the stage of thinking long term. He'd made sure everyone knew she belonged to him. Jeremy was Cam's son, so kids weren't a question that had to be asked. He'd even told her the house was hers in the chance he ended up back in
prison. After calculating the money Moroad brought in, security was no longer a concern.
She wiped her eyes and sat back up. The only thing she had no clue about was Cam's feelings toward her. Most of the time he treated her more like property. It was when they were alone that she connected with him. He pampered her, protected her, and cared about her. Around the other members of Moroad, he closed himself off but she'd learned he did that for her comfort. He understood how unsettled she was within the club.
She kept waiting for him to snap, and because he didn't, she started to trust what he did for a living. She inhaled deeply and the laughter fell flat. God, she was losing her mind.
A knock jolted her out of giving herself an hour's worth of talk therapy. She walked over to the door, peeked out the side window, and smiled at Bear. His eyes smiled back, and she wasn't sure if his mouth, hidden behind his beard, moved or not.
She opened the door. "Hey, Bear."
"Your old man here?" Bear looked behind him.
She followed his gaze. There were four other bikers sitting on their motorcycles. She put her foot behind the door. During her time here, she'd met every member of Moroad that was free. The rough looking men with Bear were strangers to her.
"He'll be back any second." The dryer buzzer rang, and she jumped in fright. "Go ahead and wait outside for him. I need to get this load of laundry before it wrinkles."
She shut the door and waited a few seconds until she assumed he was off the porch, and then locked the deadbolt. After those men removed her from the truck and had her walk off the road, she trusted no one. She only hoped Cam hurried back or the men decided to leave and come back later.
Halfway through folding the laundry, the backdoor opened. She screamed and covered her mouth.
Jeremy shut the door and put his finger in front of his lips. "Keep it down."
"What's wrong?" She pressed her hand to her racing heart. "You scared me to death."
"We've got visitors." Jeremy rushed past her.
She followed him to the front door. "It's Bear."
"Yeah, but those guys aren't wearing Moroad colors or patches." Jeremy removed a pistol from the back of his jeans. "Cam said nobody but Moroad is allowed on the property, unless okayed by him."
"Dammit." She grabbed his arm. "I thought you weren't going to carry that unless you were riding with the club at night."
Jeremy pulled away from her. "Cam said it was okay."
Of course, he did. She swallowed her anger, planning to talk again with Cam about Jeremy's safety.
"Your dad will be home soon." She stepped away from the door. "Let's stay inside and wait for him."
To set an example, she walked into the living room and sat on the couch. Crossing her legs, she swung her foot to get rid of the nervous energy making her feel sick to her stomach. For how much Cam treated Jeremy with respect, he hadn't crossed the line to pushing him in the right direction and acting like a parent.
Jeremy continued to watch out the window. She picked up the pre-paid phone on the coffee table Cam had told her to carry, and checked the time. Cam left a little over an hour ago.
"Someone's coming up the road," Jeremy said.
Curious, she stood and walked over to the living room window. She recognized the black motorcycle and the rider.
"It's Cam," she said. "Put away the gun now."
"I'm going out." Jeremy rushed outside and jumped off the porch.
From inside, she was glad to see he'd put the pistol away. She went back to the utility room and finished folding clothes. Armed with a pile of Jeremy's clothes, she walked down the hallway when the front door opened.
"Christina," Cam yelled.
She entered the foyer. "You don't have to yell. I'm right here."
"Come on outside for a second." He turned and left, leaving the door open.
She set the stack of clothes on the third step, ran her hands through her hair, and walked outside. Cam waved her over, and she glanced around at the men. Bear slapped the closest man on the back and shook his head in amusement at something that was said. The two men closest to her talked low to Cam. She approached the group, unsure if she should interrupt.
Cam turned and gathered her to his side. "Christina, this is Craven and Rich."
Craven, shaved head and blue eyes that roamed her body in a way that left her uncomfortable, nodded. She raised her hand and waved, staying beside Cam because she didn't like the look in Craven's eyes.
Rich stepped forward. Cam planted his hand on Rich's chest stopping him from coming closer to her. "Don't touch her. She's mine."
"Nice to meet you," Rich said, whistling.
"The other two are Derek and Rag," Cam said. "Bear just picked them up from the pen, so you'll see them around now."
Derek dipped his whiskered chin. "Ma'am."
"Hi," she said, slipping her hand into Cam's back pocket.
Rag only stared at her and spit on the ground. She leaned against Cam, looking away.
"What happened to the Moroad women?" Craven ran his tongue along his teeth. "The whole fucking ride, all I could think about was coming back to the club and the women."
"Bear, call everyone. Let them know we're celebrating tonight." Cam grinned at the other men. "There'll be women around until ten o'clock and then they go and dance in town at the Silver Girls."
Craven snorted. "I heard inside that Bantorus MC is running Federal. How'd we let our women go to them?"
"They're still ours. It benefits us that Kurt and his men watch over the town, and keep the sheriff's department busy. Nobody pays attention to the outskirts." Cam patted Christina on the ass.
She tilted her head, took Cam's kiss, and caught the lecherous gaze of Rich. "I'm going to go inside, while you visit with your friends."
She escaped before he could stop her. Hustling inside, she shut the door and leaned against the solid wood. Uncomfortable with the strangers at the house, she wondered how many more men would show up fresh from prison, and how many of these men Cam really trusted. The odds were stacked against him. Even upstanding citizens usually only had a few friends they could count on.
Chapter Twenty Three
Headlights appeared at the end of the long stretch of roadway. Cam got off his motorcycle and stood in the middle of the back road, holding his pistol, and waited for the delivery he and his MC brothers would take to Washington.
The delivery was ten minutes early, and that kind of sloppiness put him on edge. If it was a set up or the Feds showed up, he'd never see daylight again.
Stache and Gunner flanked Cam's sides. Willy, Meese, Bear had his back. Behind them all, Jeremy sat his motorcycle with strict instructions not to get off his bike. He glanced over his shoulder and went with the feelings in his gut.
"Tell the kid to get out of here," he ordered. "Now."
Christina's warning to look out for Jeremy weighed heavy on his mind. The kid wasn't ready to spend life behind bars.
Behind him, Jeremy's motorcycle started. Cam listened as the engine revved and grew quieter the more distance Jeremy put between himself and a mistake he'd never be able to outrun if things went bad.
The car rolled to a stop in front of Cam and shut off its lights. He waited. Until he had positive proof the men inside had what he wanted and tonight wasn't a setup, he'd continue to play off the idea Moroad MC's presence on a lonely road was part of a midnight ride, and he'd stopped to stretch his legs.
Both the driver and passenger doors opened. In the darkness, two men stepped out and walked toward him. His vision already adjusted to the lack of light, Cam stepped forward.
"Nice night," Cam said, waiting for the reply that was prearranged.
"Indeed." The black man straightened his tie and held his hands out to his side. "The weather is perfect for traveling, my friend. Hardly any traffic and the stars are out."
Cam stepped forward and shook the man's hand. "We'll take the delivery."
"As I'd expect." The man walked to the rear of the
car, opened the trunk, and stepped back.
Cam whistled and motioned his men to come pick up the duffle bags. Attuned to the two men's every move, Cam watched them stand back from the car. Within minutes, Moroad members strapped the bags loaded with rifles, disassembled for easier travel to the back of their motorcycles, and sat with engines ready.
"It's been a pleasure." The unnamed black man dipped his chin and returned to the car.
Cam stayed in position, not turning his back. His partnership only went so far, and he trusted no one. For the chain to work, every single person had to take responsibility for each step of the journey. He didn't know these men, and every week would be a different group. The only thing he needed to know was that Blues were responsible for the drop off and Moroad MC would take the delivery to Washington where he'd wipe his hands clean.
A two-hour round trip, once a week. Easy money and yet a life sentence if caught. Everything had to go according to plan. Each man present accountable for his own destiny.
Once the taillights dimmed and rounded the corner, Cam returned to his motorcycle. He checked his phone. Four minutes after midnight put them ahead of schedule.
"Take it easy until we reach Interstate 90." Cam straightened his motorcycle, toed the kickstand, and pushed the bike backward to turn around. "We need to eat up five minutes. I don't want to arrive in Spokane until it's time. Let's give everyone no reason to worry."
"Got it." Gunner started his bike.
Leading the way, Cam rode the back road heading west. He remained on guard, diligent, and law abiding. Twenty minutes later, he took the on-ramp to the interstate. He let his mind shut down to the job at hand. He had another delivery under his belt and more money to strengthen his club. His next visit with Merk at the prison, he'd find out if the message carved on Half-rack's back made a difference on getting the pressure from Reds off him. The chain provided security on the outside, and he'd see to gaining protection on the inside.
The drop-off in Spokane took less than five minutes and went down without a hitch. He rode the hour home with less weight on his shoulders. He pulled down the road to the house alone after seeing his men ride off to their own houses, coasting the motorcycle the last one hundred feet to the house. Christina would be sleeping, and nights were never easy on her when he was gone. He didn't want to scare her.