by Sam Crescent
Climbing off his bike, he didn’t wait for Reaper. Instead, he barged into the house, grabbing the cop by the back of the neck and throwing him across the room. He landed against a ceramic urn that shattered.
“So, you think you can just take my money, and then turn rat on me?”
“No, please,” the cop said.
Grabbing him by the hair, he dragged him outside, ready to kill him.
“Wait,” Reaper said.
Lord held the gun up, ready to train it on Reaper. “You’re sticking up for this piece of shit? Did you turn rat on me as well?” He’d kill any man within the club who even thought of turning against the Straight to Hell MC. This was a blood loyalty, live or die. There was no getting out unless you were six feet under.
Simple as fucking that.
“What if we got him to bring in the daughter?” Reaper asked.
“What?”
“The rat’s kid. You wanted her. I could call Brick off, and this guy could bring her straight to us. We take care of both problems then.”
“Yes, don’t kill me. I’m sorry. It was all Richard’s idea. He said we could do it if I followed his orders.”
Lord kicked him away. “You think I want to hear what a weak-ass piece of shit you are? It doesn’t surprise me you’d rather save your own ass by luring a woman here.”
He stepped back.
His need for blood was strong, but he couldn’t have the daughter out there running her mouth off. He didn’t know the full extent of Richard’s relationship with his kid. They may not be on speaking terms, but that didn’t mean they didn’t talk on the phone, and club business was at stake. He wasn’t going to take any risks.
“You’ve got one week. Bring me Richard’s kid, and I’ll see how generous I am as to whether I let you walk away.” He wouldn’t. The only reason he was going to use this bastard was for a means to an end. This entire shitshow needed to be cleaned up. With a cop locating the daughter, he didn’t have to deal with potential damage control when it came to bringing her here.
All this had done was make his life easier and prolonged the cop’s until she arrived.
Then he’d get to have his blood.
****
“Law?” Becky asked.
“Yes, law. As in becoming a lawyer. You know, protecting the innocent and sending rotting assholes to jail?” Ally said.
“I know what law and becoming a lawyer is all about, but isn’t that, like, really hard?”
Ally couldn’t help but laugh, putting down a shot glass before turning away to deal with another customer. She loved her job and Riches Bar, and the tips paid well. The hours were crazy, but she was able to afford rent and even consider going to law school. Of course, if she did actually decide to go through with her plan, she was going to be so fucking broke. The thought of the debt alone was enough to make her cry.
She never did.
At nineteen years old, she’d been working for a long time. Ever since she was fifteen, she’d held a job. During high school, part-time at a diner. Through the summer, she worked two jobs, and since she turned eighteen, she’d been working at Riches Bar in the evening and overnight, and she still worked at the diner for lunch. She loved to work. It meant earning legal money, being able to pay her bills, and not having to depend on her father.
Not that she ever could.
Her father was a bad seed and got mixed into way too much sketchy business. Getting away from him was the best thing she’d ever done. He sent her birthday and Christmas cards on occasion, and he tried to talk to her during New Year’s, but she wasn’t interested in building up a relationship with him at this point. All the motions were only skin deep—he didn’t really care about her.
No, the time he’d considered selling her to pay for a debt, that had been the final straw. He’d never actually done it, but it had gotten so close that she’d feared for her life. Unlike Becky, she didn’t come from a great family or have a wonderful childhood.
When her mother left her trapped in a closet, it had taken her father three days to come home. She’d been eight, screaming to be let out.
She pushed those memories aside, and instead, turned back to her friend.
“You don’t think I’ve got it in me?” Ally asked, looking at her friend.
“I believe you have it in you. I’ve never met anyone as smart or as determined as you, but when it comes to the law, who exactly would you be protecting?”
“The innocent.”
“Honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not the best judge of character.”
“Says who?”
“Me. For one thing, you’ve got the whole issue with your dad. Do you really think you can make unbiased opinions?”
“It was an idea.”
“Last week you wanted to be a surgeon. Do you remember?” Becky asked.
“Why are we having this discussion?”
“You were the one who came to me. Let’s see, in the last three months, you’ve wanted to become a nanny, a forensic scientist, an analyst, a physiotherapist, an owner of some app or another.”
“Okay, I get it.”
“I’m not done. In the past week, we’ve gone from surgeon, beautician, lawyer, hairdresser, designer, and I think one of my favorites was quilting as well.”
Okay, she was fickle. Or maybe she was just lost with nothing and no one to ground her. Ally didn’t know what she wanted or needed out of life.
She rolled her eyes. “You make it sound like I have no direction.”
“Honey, you don’t.”
“So, I’m undecided about how I want to take my future.” She shrugged.
“Have you ever thought about maybe applying for another job and seeing where that takes you?”
“Of course, I have, but I don’t want to let Ben down.” Ben was the owner of Riches place, and he’d given her a chance even though she’d never been a barmaid. Even though she got the job with a fake ID and he knew it. “It feels a little like I’m not being loyal.”
“Please, you are loyal, but he’ll understand that even you want to have a life and do something else. Not everyone stays in the same job forever. I don’t know why we’re having this discussion. You’re nineteen. We should be fucking our problems away until Monday morning.”
“Yeah, you can do that and not worry about the giant headache you’re going to get, and with work.”
Becky didn’t work. She didn’t need to work. She was rich and her parents supported her. Her best friend was also five years older than her, and she’d already done a couple of years in college and hated it.
“Sweetheart, you know I’d hire you in an instant.”
“I know, but that doesn’t feel right. You’re my friend.” She put her hand over Becky’s. “I’ll figure out something else. I don’t know what came over me. I woke up really restless. Like I need to do something or something bad is going to happen. I don’t know.”
“I think you need to find a good man, one with a nice big dick, and have a little fun. That’s what I believe.”
“I’ve got to serve. Are you sticking around for a little bit?”
Becky’s cell phone went off. “Ugh, I was going to stay, but it would appear my presence has been demanded by those of importance.”
“Your parents?”
“Yes, my daughterly persona is needed.” Becky leaned over the counter and Ally kissed her cheek. “Good night.”
“Night.”
“And think about what I said,” Becky said.
“Sorry, I won’t be leaving here tonight with a man.”
“Pity. You could have at least done something more interesting. Later.”
Ally waved at her friend. The rest of her evening was uneventful. No fighting. Just serving. Beer, shots, whiskey, some cocktails.
Ben came to join her toward the end, to hustle out the last of the customers. With the doors closed, she stuck around, cleaning up. There were a few broken glasses, which she told him about.
“Sure.”
“Did you ever go to college?”
Ben laughed. “I did. I took business. I never actually passed it though. I was the guy who was always at the parties. Some of the cocktails you serve are my own creations. Why? Are you thinking of going?”
“Sometimes. I’m not really sure what to do with my life.” Her parents hadn’t exactly been inspirational on her career choices, and she didn’t even know what happened to her mom. The last she’d heard, she was living with a junkie downtown.
“Don’t overthink everything. Just find out what you like and go with it. It’s all anyone can do.”
“Says the guy who owns several bars and clubs across the country.”
“Again, a degree didn’t get me that. Go on, get out of here. I’ll finish cleaning up. Would you like me to walk you home?”
“No, I came by car. I heard it was going to rain tonight. I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“You want me to walk you out to your car?”
“I’m good.” She didn’t like accepting help. A strength or a flaw, she wasn’t sure. If she got used to Ben being there for her, it would be impossible for her to imagine going to her car without him. She’d been taking care of herself for so long, accepting help was difficult. “See you tomorrow night.”
“Night, Ally.”
She grabbed her bag and jacket from the back, letting herself out the delivery entrance, toward the back of the parking lot. Her car was beneath a flickering lamp. It hadn’t been flickering for days, and now it suddenly decided it wanted to be on the out.
Shaking her head, she moved toward her car, key at the ready. The alarm was shot, and she didn’t want to waste any cash, so she pressed the key into the lock just as she was leaned against the front of the car.
“Ally Prixman, you’re under arrest.”
“Wait, what the hell?”
Her hands were forced behind her back, cuffed, and she was pulled toward a police car. One she recognized as being from her town.
Resisting arrest was against the law, so she complied. If she did nothing wrong, she’d be okay. Did he know she was working at the bar underage?
Panic consumed her.
She didn’t know what the hell was happening. All she knew was if a cop was arresting her for nothing, it had to do with her father.
What had he done now?
End of sample chapter
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