by Carolina Mac
“What’s the plan for today, Portia?” Billy asked.
“Anything you want to do for the day. At six I’m making steaks for Jackson’s dinner, and then the airport at nine-thirty.”
“I don’t want to go home,” Billy said, “I like it here.”
“You have to go home,” Jackson snapped. “Let’s go outside for a minute.”
“Breakfast is almost ready,” I said.
“Put it on hold,” Jackson mumbled as he closed the patio door tightly behind him.
From the kitchen, I could see him reading Billy the riot act through the window, complete with arm waving and boot stomping. Jackson was pissed about something.
“Who’s ready to eat?” I asked when the boys came inside.
“I’m in,” said Jackson perching on a stool.
“I’m in,” said Billy, looking a little sheepish.
Why is Jackson so pissed at Billy?
“I’m in double,” said Rusty, as he appeared at the kitchen door looking a little pale. “What am I in double for?”
“Scrambled eggs and sausage,” I said.
Rusty turned and bolted back to the bathroom. “Guess he’s not in double,” Billy laughed and snorted.
“That free beer will get you every time, even if you’re Irish,” I said.
“I need him to sober up,” said Jackson. “There’s shit happening while he’s away.”
“Can we fix it from here?” Billy showed his serious side.
“Don’t think so. We’ll talk about it later.”
I raised my eyebrows but Jackson clammed up. He never involved me in club discussions and neither had George. Better if I didn’t know. I served the boys their breakfast and poured them more coffee. Rusty eventually showed up after he showered and he opted for toast and coffee only. He still looked a little green around the gills.
“Anybody come up with a plan yet?” I rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.
Jackson said, “They want to go to the Mirage—they haven’t been there yet. Why don’t I take them over there and bring them back at five-thirty? Do you want to come, baby?”
“No, I have lots to keep me busy. You guys go and have some fun.”
An hour later, after the three of them had been smoking and arguing on the patio for reasons unknown to me, they were ready to travel.
I smiled when I saw they were all wearing their new Harley Las Vegas shirts. “Stay out of trouble,” I hollered as they went out the garage door.
I set the table in the dining room, marinated the steaks in the refrigerator, prepared the potatoes and vegetables¸ made the salad, brought the cake in from the fridge in the garage where I had hidden it, tidied up the house and took a nap.
AT FOUR-THIRTY, I called Jackson to see what was happening. He replied that they were playing at the Mirage for another half hour and coming home. His voice told me that stress from the club and from his father was playing heavily on him.
Wonder what’s going on in Toronto? Can’t be good.
I was glad I decided not to play poker. I was tired and it would have been a rush to get dinner ready when I got home. We could have gone out for steaks, but Jackson preferred eating at home. A luxury he never enjoyed, because he didn’t have a mother growing up. My guests arrived at five forty-five. I welcomed them with ice cold beer and hot snacks from the oven.
“These little sausage things are fuckin good, Portia,” said Billy as he ate his fourth one.
“Did you guys get any lunch while you were out?”
“Just liquid lunch,” said Rusty.”
“Hair of the dog, Rusty?”
He grinned. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Win anything, sugar?” I asked Jackson.
“Not today, lost about fifty bucks.” He sounded testy.
“You won a lot yesterday. You’re still up,” I said. “I’m throwing the steaks on the grill, guys. Dinner in ten minutes.”
“I’m starving,” said Jackson. I knew him well enough to know there was something he wasn’t telling me. We needed to clear the air.
“Take your beer and sit at the dining room table, boys. I’m serving the salad.”
“I love it when you cook, Portia,” said Rusty. “You’re so damn good at it.”
The boys took their seats and demolished their salad and everything that came afterward. I cleared away the first course, put the candles on the cake, and carried it into the dining room. We sang happy birthday to Jackson¸ and he looked like he might cry.
“I’m so fuckin’ full, Portia, but I’m definitely eating a big hunk of cake,” said Billy.
“Me too,” said Rusty.
Jackson sat quietly and watched me serve the cake, and it took me a minute to figure out why. Then it dawned on me and I sucked in a little breath—he’d never had a birthday cake before. My heart hurt for him, and for all the pain he’d been through his whole life. I struggled to keep my tears at bay.
“How old are you now, you old fart?” asked Billy.
“Thirty-seven,” said Jackson, “why, Billy, how old are you?”
“You got ten on me, old man. I’m twenty-seven.”
“Maybe in ten years, you’ll be as sensible and mature and as good lookin’ as me,” Jackson snorted
“Fuck off, Jackson.” Billy punched him in the shoulder.
“I’m thirty this year,” said Rusty. “Time marches on.”
“How old are you, Portia?” Billy asked, “Or am I committing some kind of social fuckin’ nightmare by asking?”
“No social nightmare, Billy. I’m twenty-six.” I laughed. It was easy to laugh when Billy was around.
“You’re just a baby, Portia. But a gorgeous one and you can cook.”
“Thanks, Billy,” I giggled. “Who wants coffee?”
“I’ll have a coffee, baby,” Jackson said. He sucked in a big breath and dropped the bomb. “Have to get to the airport…I…I have to go back with the boys.” He reached for my hand and I pulled away. “You know I wouldn’t unless it was important.”
“Didn’t see that coming.” I retreated to the bedroom to collect my thoughts but I wasn’t alone. Jackson was right on my heels. He tried to hug me and I turned away.
“I know you’re pissed, baby. I’ll be back as soon as I can. One other thing…”
Fuck, what now?
“I put a man on the house. He’s from the local club.”
I felt the heat rising in my neck. “I don’t need anybody babysitting me,” I hollered.
“Please, Portia. Don’t be mad at me. I have to go and it makes me feel better to know you’re not alone and...”
“And what?” My eyes felt watery.
“You’re not going to cry, are you?” He sounded annoyed with me.
“No, Jackson, I’m not going to cry. I’ve been depending on you and leaning on you ever since George died. This is my wake-up call. You go do whatever it is that you have to do and I’ll do what I have to do to get my life together.”
Jackson turned on his heel without another word and left the bedroom.
I slammed the bedroom door, wiped my eyes and sucked in a breath.
I have been depending on him way too much. Suck it up.
I tossed some clothes into a duffel bag for him and carried it to the door.
After we finished our coffee, Rusty and Billy packed up their bags and loaded them in the Hummer. We drove out to McCarran and Jackson paced and talked on his phone while we waited for the Toronto flight to board. Rusty and Billy played slot machines, bought souvenirs and loaded up with cartons of smokes at the duty-free shop. When it was time for them to go through the gate, I hugged them both.
“Thanks for coming guys. You made Jackson’s birthday something special.”
“No, we have to thank you, Portia. We would never have made it to Vegas without you,” Rusty said. “Sorry that we have to take Jackson away.”
“I second that,” said Billy. “No way would I ever have played poker in Vegas without
you, Portia. I won’t forget it. I had a great time.”
Jackson kissed me before he went through the gate. “I’ll call you,” he said with a catch in his voice and I knew he wasn’t happy about leaving me. “Never had a birthday before, baby—this was my first one. Thanks for everything.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
SINCE WE HAD been at this address, I hadn’t seen a park anywhere near our neighborhood. Angel needed more exercise than she was getting and so did I. My favorite thing to do in the morning was run with my dog. My energy level was at rock bottom when I skipped my run and now that Jackson had abandoned me I needed physical activity more than ever.
I brewed the coffee and sat outside at the patio table, throwing Angel’s ball for her, to make her run off pent up energy. Jackson called me and exhaustion was evident in his voice.
“Hard night?” I asked trying not to sound pissy.
“Always a hard night, when I’m away from you, baby.”
“Uh huh. Any progress solving your problem?”
“Not yet. Give me a couple of days.”
“I’m not your keeper, Jackson. Stay as long as you need to. You’re a free man.”
“Don’t say that baby. You know I want to be with you.”
“Regulators come first. I learned that the hard way.”
“I’m sorry I had to leave you there alone.”
“So am I.” I hung up.
I changed into my leathers, headed into the garage and flipped one of the overhead doors up. The presence of a menacing looking guy sitting on the garden bench in front of the house startled me. I walked over and stuck out my hand. “Jackson said he was putting a man on me. I’m Annie Talbot.”
“Race Ogilvey.” The big biker took stock of me with the hint of a smile on his lips. He was tall even sitting down. Long dark hair, beard, and reflector shades. His leather vest was weighted down with heavy chains. He was wearing a ‘P’ patch on his cut, but I couldn’t see the name of the club.
‘The Rule’ was the number one club in Vegas, but club presidents didn’t take babysitting jobs.
“I’m riding,” I said and he nodded.
I struggled to start my bike. Usually, it started on the first try. Maybe it had been sitting too long. Maybe I was so angry with Jackson I was doing something wrong. Fuck.
Race ambled into the garage. Fiddled with the gas, checked the oil, lowered his bulk onto my bike and started it. He grinned as he revved it up. “Let’s ride.” The words came out in a low growl.
I locked up and took off with my new shadow behind me. I wanted to get a feel for some of the neighborhoods before I looked for a house. Now I wasn’t sure if I’d be living alone, but it didn’t matter. The one thing I was sure of—I didn’t want to go back to Toronto.
I headed out towards the highway. It was slow going, stop and go, with low-speed limits and traffic lights at every corner. When I reached the ninety-five I squeezed the gas, let my baby out and had some fun. I hadn’t had the opportunity to ride my bike in quite a while. I cruised through different neighborhoods, looking for the surroundings that I wanted. When I arrived in Summerlin, I slowed down, looking at the houses, the green spaces, and the amenities. At one of the larger parks, I took a break and relaxed on a bench.
Race pulled up, sat down beside me and lit up a smoke. “What are we doing?”
“Looking for a new house.”
He nodded. Quiet guy.
My phone rang. Jackson again. “Didn’t like the way our conversation ended this morning.”
I didn’t answer. What could I say?
He waited, then asked, “You don’t want to talk to me?”
“Sure, I’ll talk to you. As soon as I’m happy being number two in your life, that’s when I’ll talk to you.” I hung up and Race gave me a glance.
Fuck, I hated fighting with Jackson.
FILLED TO CAPACITY with anger and about to boil over, I jumped on my ride, drove through the rest of Summerlin and headed into Red Rock Canyon. The sun was high in the sky. Perfect day for a ride. Highway one fifty-nine wound its way through the canyon, unveiling amazing rock formations on both sides of the road. Should have brought my camera. I would have to come back in the Hummer and take Angel for a big hike. After riding for an hour, I arrived back at the rental house in south Vegas. I was pumped.
“Good ride,” said the shadow. “Thought I might have to sit on my fuckin ass all day.”
I parked the Softail in the garage and hung up my helmet wondering how expensive the houses were out by the canyon. I can sell Hawthorne Lane and there will be money left over. Too bad I had to give half a million to that lowlife Stan and for what? A guy that puts me second to his fucking gang. Now mean thoughts were creeping into my brain. I was a becoming a bitch.
Race and I sat in the kitchen with a couple of cold ones while I made a late lunch for the two of us. “I can sit outside.”
“Fuck it.” I said, “You draw a short straw for this gig?”
“Something like that.” He smirked and chugged the rest of his beer. “Ain’t as bad as I thought.” He ate his sandwich.
Thoughts rolled around in my head like silver balls in a pinball game. I’ll call Pam today and see how busy she is. The sooner I choose something, the sooner I can close it. Once I buy something here, I’ll have to fly back to Toronto and unload Hawthorne Lane. If I need a place to stay in Ontario there’s always the cabin up north. Needs to be checked on anyway, if I’m back for a few days. See if anybody ripped me off or stole…the boat. Fuck, now I was making myself cry. I hated to think about the last day at the lake with George. Shut that down, Annie, don’t go there. Too late. “I’m going to take a nap.”
“I’ll smoke out back.”
“Take Angel.” I lay on my bed and cried myself to sleep.
WHEN I WOKE, Angel and Race were still on the patio. I sucked it up and donned the cloak of self-reliance. I dug Pam’s card out of my purse and dialed. “This morning I rode out to Summerlin area and toured through the Red Rock Canyon. Anything available out that way?”
“Give me an hour, Mrs. Talbot and I’ll print out what listings I have.”
“Okay, thanks. Call me when you have something.” I set my phone on the counter. It rang and scared me.
“I love you, Annie,” said Jackson, “You’ll always be first in my heart.”
My eyes welled up with tears hearing him sound so sad.
“I love you too, Jackson. I’m sorry I was acting like a…a… bitch.”
“Is…my man around?”
“He’s outside.”
“Good. What are you doing while I’m gone?”
“Pam’s going to show me some houses out by the canyon.”
A pause on the other end of the line. “You’re buying a house in Vegas?”
“I think so. I don’t want to live in Toronto anymore.”
“You’re sure about that?
“I’m sure about the Toronto thing.”
Jackson paused again and I could hear him suck in a breath. “What if I’m stuck here?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t want you living out there all alone. It’s not safe.”
“Then do something about it.” I hung up and choked back a sob. I hated the distance between us and I hated the fact that I had put it there. My phone rang and I did my best to sound coherent. “Hello.” I choked it out.
“Mrs. Talbot, are you all right?”
“Fine, Pam. What’s up?” I could barely breathe with Jackson’s unhappiness pressing down on me.
“I set up a couple of appointments for tomorrow starting at eleven. There might be three altogether. I’ll pick you up.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I WAS PUMPED for house hunting and ready to go when Pam picked me up at eleven. Race opted to follow behind anonymously on his bike. It would have been more fun if Jackson was with me, but he might not even be living with me in Vegas so what did it matter. We had already discussed what we both needed in a
home in Vegas. Jackson wanted open space around him, close to the canyon, twenty minutes or less from the strip, a big garage and a park or trails to run on. I wanted a great kitchen, a fabulous ensuite, a roomy yard for Angel and access to a shooting range. I’d try to fill both our needs, hoping Jackson would join me out here at some point. Maybe by the time I was ninety-fuckin-nine.
Pam chatted all the way out to Summerlin. “I’m so happy you decided to buy a property. In all probability, you can close it before your rental expires and move right in.”
“That’s why I wanted to get looking right away, I only have six weeks to close it or another month’s rent will be due. I rode out here yesterday on my bike and toured the area. It has a rural feel that we’re both looking for,” I said.
“Too bad Jackson isn’t here to view the houses with you.”
“That is too bad.” I regretted the edge in my voice.
The first house, Pam showed me was huge. It had three garages for Jackson and a large master suite, but the backyard was the drawback. Space was completely filled with a swimming pool, waterfall, and patio. Beautiful landscaping, but no grassy area for Angel. A pool would be nice for Jackson because of the heat, but I didn’t swim and didn’t intend to learn. There were neighbors close on both sides and that was a deal breaker for both of us.
The second house was in an area called Scarlett Canyon. Jackson would have loved the view, had he been here. The property felt open and rural. There were no houses behind, just green space. The kitchen was all granite with cherry cabinets and a large island. The master ensuite had a massive separate shower. The rooms were large and the back yard was fenced and large enough for Angel to run. The monster three car garage formed an L-shape with the rest of the house and gave a sense of privacy to the front courtyard.
The third house ticked most of the boxes, but it was in a busier area and there were a lot of small children playing on the street. Angel was not used to children, and the park that was close by didn’t allow dogs.
“Let’s go back to the second one. I want to take another look around,” I said as I glanced down the block and verified Race’s presence.