by A. M. Myers
But we need answers.
Groaning, I grab my phone off of the desk as I stand up before heading for the door as I slip it into my pocket. Goddamn it. I would rather do just about anything than meet with this girl but I know it’s my best bet. Every other leads we’ve managed to track down has been a dead end and we need a new angle – even if that angle is someone I can’t stand. I yank the door open with more force than necessary and Moose turns to look at me with wide eyes as he stops in front of his and Juliette’s room with a cup of coffee in each hand.
“Everything okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. I just realized I need to talk to Tawny, though.”
“Shit,” he whispers with a wince and I can’t say that I blame him. If anyone knows exactly what Tawny is capable of, it’s Moose. “Take back up.”
“You volunteering?” I ask and laugh when some of the color drains from his face. He shakes his head.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
Moose and Tawny were hooking up for a while before he met his wife, Juliette, but she got it in her head that they were getting serious when they couldn’t have been further from the truth and when he ended things with her, she fucking lost it. Blaze had to kick her out of the clubhouse and the next thing we knew, the police were talking to Moose because she had filed assault charges against him. In the end, the charges were dropped due to lack of evidence and we thought that was the end of it until Tawny showed up at the clubhouse a few weeks back. She told us about the guy she met in a bar who had encouraged her to let him punch her in the face so she could press charges against Moose and mess up the club’s image. There is no way in hell this isn’t the same guy and if she’s had an up close interaction with him, I need to speak to her.
“I’m serious, Streak,” Moose says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I won’t get anywhere near her but you need someone with you. The last thing any of us needs is her claiming some shit again.”
I nod. “I hear you. I’ll go see who’s up.”
Nodding in approval, he turns and slips back into his room as I head downstairs to see who is awake and willing to go along with me. I can’t believe I was really about to go talk to her, all alone, when I know what she’s like. If you’re going to be around Tawny, you need fucking witnesses. The bar is quiet when I walk in and I sigh, glancing back toward the stairs.
Shit.
People usually give me a hard time about sleeping until noon but lately I’ve been up before everyone else, my mind constantly working over the case as I try to find some answers, even in my sleep. Not that it’s done a damn bit of good. A door opens from down the hallway and I turn my head as Rowan steps into the room in fresh clothes, a jean miniskirt and t-shirt, with her dark hair piled into a bun on top of her head.
“Hey,” she says, flashing me a loaded smile that has me thinking about taking her back up to my room.
She’s going to be the death of me.
“Anyone else up?”
She shakes her head, her gaze dropping to the keys in my hand. “I don’t think so. You going somewhere?”
“Yeah…” I sigh, looking over at the door before turning back to her. “Actually, you want to go with me?”
“Where are we going?”
I laugh as she comes out from behind the bar and stops next to me. “Is that a yes then?”
“Obviously,” she shoots back, rolling her eyes and I shake my head as we start walking toward the clubhouse door. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Uh… we’re going on a little mission and I need backup.”
She studies me as we step outside. The chilly early morning air wraps us up and she crosses her arms over her chest to keep herself warm. “I hate to tell you this now that you’ve chosen me to go with you but I’m not good in a fight. Like, if someone comes after you, I’m no Tate.”
“Thank God,” I answer, laughing, and she grins at me. “And it’s not like that. I need to go talk to someone and it’s best to have witnesses when around this particular person.”
“Why?”
We reach my car and I open the passenger door for her as I reach into the back seat and grab one of my hoodies before handing it to her. “It’s kind of a long story but I’ll fill you in as we drive over there.”
“Okay.” She takes the hoodie with a smile and pulls it over her head. She’s swimming in it and it covers her skirt, too, making her look like she’s not wearing anything else, but she doesn’t seem to care as she sinks into the bucket seat of my sixty-nine Impala. Once she’s in the car, I shut the door and jog around to the other side, sliding behind the wheel. The rumble of the engine makes me smile and as I pull out of my parking space, she turns to look at me. “Start talking.”
I arch a brow. “You’re a bossy little thing.”
“I seem to recall you liking it last night.”
Well, she’s got me there. Shaking my head, I ignore her comment and begin telling her the Tawny saga as we drive through Baton Rouge to her apartment, starting with the way she worked her way through several of the guys, trying to get one of them to make her their old lady before settling on Moose and then framing him for assault. When I’m done, she falls back in her seat and releases a breath.
“Okay… well, now I see why you needed backup. Who the hell lets a stranger hit them so they can blame it on someone else?”
I shrug. “Someone not right in the head.”
“Clearly,” she agrees before turning to look at me. “You said she worked her way through several of the guys, right?”
“Yeah… why?”
She scowls. “Did you sleep with her?”
“Oh, hell no.” I fight back a shudder of disgust. “I told all of them to stay the hell away from her but do you think they listened to me?”
“Obviously not.”
I nod as we pull up in front of Tawny’s apartment. We haven’t even made it out of the car yet and I already want to leave. Sighing, I turn off the engine and climb out, waiting for Rowan on the sidewalk as she rounds the hood and when she reaches me, she slips her hand into mine. I peek over at her as we approach Tawny’s door, wondering why the hell this feels so natural but before I can delve too deeply into it, she knocks on the door. We wait for a few seconds before the door squeaks open and Tawny glances out at us through the crack.
“Why are you here?” she asks, her voice shaky and her eyes darting between Rowan and me. “I haven’t been back to the club or bothered any of you.”
I nod. “I know, Tawny. We’re here because we need to talk to you.”
“Why?” she asks, opening the door a little wider but not enough to let us into her place. Rowan takes a step forward and offers her a warm smile. It’s actually impressive given how disgusted she was by Tawny’s behavior on the way over here.
“Hi, Tawny. I’m Rowan, Kodiak’s sister, and we really need your help with something. Do you think we could come in and talk for a little bit?”
Tawny eyes her skeptically before glancing at me. “You really need my help?”
“We do,” I answer with a nod and she pulls the door open, allowing us to step into her apartment as she takes a deep breath. Rowan releases my hand as we walk into Tawny’s living room and I miss it more than I should. As Rowan and I sit next to each other on the couch, Tawny perches on the edge of a bar stool.
“I don’t know how I can help you…”
“I need to know about the guy you met in the bar… the one who punched you and tried to get you to blame it on the club.”
She sighs. “I’ve already told you everything I know about him.”
“Actually,” I say, trying to keep my voice soft and understanding so she’ll open up to me. “I wasn’t there when you showed up and I’d like to hear everything in your words.”
After studying me for a second, she sighs and nods. “Okay. Where would you like me to start?”
I pull my phone out of my pocket, pulling up the voice memo app and starting a new recording before I se
t it down on the coffee table. When I look up at her again, I notice that her hands are shaking but I can’t understand why. When she showed up at the clubhouse and got into it with Moose, Blaze threatened to take evidence of her drug use to the cops but none of us have ever done anything to make her feel like we would hurt her. At least, I don’t think we have…
“How about his name?” Rowan asks, pulling me out of my thoughts and I glance up at Tawny. She sighs.
She sighs. “Shit, I don’t know… I was so drunk… oh, wait. I remember. He said his name was Warren because his dad loved the book, War and Peace.”
“Okay,” I reply, ignoring her commentary. Warren can’t be all that common of a name and maybe if I search through the receipts at the bar, I might have a chance of finding him. Would he really be that careless, though? Turning back to her, I ask the one question that I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to. “What about what he looked like?”
She shrugs. “Average? I don’t know… he has brown hair and brown eyes. He was a little taller than me and slim but kind of unmemorable if he hadn’t socked me in the face.”
Her description matches every other one we’ve ever gotten from anyone who had an interaction with him and I nod in irritation. “What about what happened that night?”
“What about it?”
Gritting my teeth, I fight back my irritation and Rowan lays her hand on my leg, forcing me to take a deep breath before turning back to Tawny. “Like did he approach you or did you approach him?”
“Oh, it was all him. I went to the bar to drown my sorrows after Moose dumped me. I was already a couple drinks in when he came up to me and offered to buy me the next one. We started talking and I told him all about you guys and that I had just been dumped.”
I nod, remembering the way Moose told the story after she had stopped by the clubhouse to explain herself. “And framing Moose was all his idea?”
“Yeah. He said you guys weren’t as clean cut as you like to pretend you were and he wanted to expose you. When I said I didn’t want anything to do with y’all anymore, he brought up how funny it would be if a member got arrested for hitting a woman.”
“Right, and then he lured you out behind the bar and punched you?”
She nods. “That part gets a little fuzzy. He was plying me with drinks for most of the night and I was very drunk by then. He took advantage of that.”
“Do you remember anything else?” Rowan asks. “Anything that might help us find out who this guy is?”
“Well…”
I arch a brow. “What is it?”
“I don’t really know if it will help but I clearly remember thinking that right before he hit me, his face changed and he hit me way harder than he needed to…”
Rowan scowls. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he hit me so fucking hard that he fractured my cheekbone and he seemed so angry in that moment but the rest of the night, he was perfectly charming and nice… I don’t know... It was like he became a different person,” she sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”
I stand up and grab my phone off of the coffee table as I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. We’re all kind of spinning our wheels here but I knew this was a long shot. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, though.”
“If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know. I want to help.”
“That would be great,” I tell her, pulling one of the club’s business cards out of my back pocket and writing my cell number on the back before handing it to her. “You can reach me at that number.”
She takes it and nods, before frowning. “I am sorry about all of this… and I’m sorry again that I couldn’t be more help. If I could fix what I did, I would.”
“Look,” I say, sighing. “What you did was fucked up but you were also a pawn in this guy’s game and I don’t really think you would have done this if he hadn’t been buying you alcohol all night and coercing you into it.”
“Thank you for saying that,” she whispers and I nod as Rowan stands. Tawny hops off of the bar stool and walks us to the door, promising again to call if she thinks of anything before we leave. As soon as we’re outside, Rowan slips her hand into mine again and I glance down at her.
“You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah… just fucking frustrated.”
“Let’s go get some food. I always think better after I eat something,” she says and there is no room for argument in her tone but oddly, I don’t give a shit.
“Yes, ma’am.” I laugh as I release her hand and throw my arm over her shoulders, pulling her into my body. My stomach growls, as if on cue, but even if I wasn’t starving, there is no way in hell I would turn down an opportunity to spend a little more time with her. Not when she makes me feel like maybe I actually have a chance of solving this and saving my club.
Chapter Seven
Rowan
“Here are your pancakes and bacon,” the waitress says as she sets a heaping plate of food in front of me with a smile. After she’s pulled a container of syrup out of her apron and set it on the table next to my plate, she turns to Travis and sets his plate in front of him. “And the hash brown scrambler with sausage and gravy for you. Is there anything else y’all need right now?”
Her gaze flicks between the two of us as I inspect the table for a moment and when I look up at her, I shake my head. She glances over at Travis as he does the same, flashing her a friendly smile. “Naw, I think we’re good. Thanks, Mia.”
“No problem, Streak. Just holler if you need anything else.” She returns his smile before walking away from the table and after she disappears into the kitchen, I turn to back to Travis.
“You come here often?”
He smirks. “Is that your best line?”
“Shut up,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes as I resist the urge to pick up one of the jelly packets and throw it at him. “I just meant because you two obviously know each other.”
“We don’t really know each other, if that’s what you mean, but Tate used to work here before she married your brother and Mia is a friend of hers.”
“Oh, I see.”
“But, listen,” he whispers, lowering his voice as he leans in and flashes me a devilish grin. “If you want to fuck again, all you gotta do is ask, sweetheart.”
I arch a brow. “I thought we had already agreed that it definitely would be happening again. And again and again…”
“Maybe I just want to hear you beg for it,” he answers with a grin that makes my belly do a little flip and my mind jumps back to last night when he had me pressed up against the window… and on all fours on the bed… and pressed up against the wall. Jesus Christ, how the hell am I even walking this morning? Lifting my chin in an act of defiance, I cross my arms over my chest and meet his gaze.
“And what if I want to hear you beg for it?”
He laughs. “Never going to happen.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Travis. I have tricks you haven’t seen yet,” I tell him and his eyes snap up to meet mine as a slow smile stretches across his face and he shakes his head.
“Fuck. That turns me on.”
Smiling, I grab my fork and cut into my pancakes, feeling pretty damn pleased with myself as Travis subtly tries to adjust himself under the table. My breath hitches as I remember what it felt like when he slid inside me last night and my skin tingles with need.
How in the hell am I still ready for more?
“So,” I whisper before clearing my throat and glancing up at him. We definitely need a new subject before we end up slipping into the bathroom for a quickie or fucking in his sexy car. He arches a brow, watching me with a knowing look in his eye.
“So?”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on with the club and this threat that everyone keeps talking about?”
His mood darkens in an instant and he shakes his head. “Sorry, can’t. It’s club business.”
“I see…”
>
I don’t see.
Not at all.
“But shouldn’t I know since I’m technically involved now? I mean, I’m living there with you all and my brother is one of this guy’s targets, right? I have a right to know what’s going on.”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Fine,” I answer with a huff but my mind is still spinning, trying to find an angle to use against him that he can’t argue with. Another idea hits me and I brace my elbows on the table. “But what if me not knowing gets someone hurt? Or it gets me hurt? Isn’t it better that I have all the information so I can make smart, informed decisions?”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he asks, studying me and I shake my head. His gaze narrows and he glares at me for a second before he sighs. “All right but if Blaze asks, I didn’t tell you shit.”
“Deal.”
Scowling, he stares down at the table, deep in thought, and I watch him for a second before clearing my throat.
“Uh, Travis?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry… it’s just hard to know where to even start.”
“The beginning sounds like a good place,” I offer, half sarcastically, and he scoffs, shaking his head.
“This is going to sound stupid but I’m not really sure when it all really began. It’s hard to keep track of everything now and remember when shit went down. Plus, each time I learn something new, I’ve got to figure out how it fits into everything.”