by Ana Stone
“I know all about it. In for life or not at all.”
“Then it doesn’t fall outside the realm of possibility that Zeke and others might be against what the MC is doing and are simply powerless to stop it.”
“The law is always there for people who want out, Roxy. If they’d come to us we could have offered immunity in exchange for information that would help us stop the MC. But they didn’t so that has to say something.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I just don’t think that Zeke—“
“So you do have something going on with him.” West let his tone reflect a little of the anger that brewed at her defense of Zeke.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, damn, I don’t know. I just don’t think—“
“Maybe that’s your problem.” He interrupted. “You don’t think. Haven’t bothered to take a look into who he really is. Well, let me correct that oversight for you.
“According to our latest Intel, not only does Zeke know what the MC is into, it’s Zeke who’s been instrumental in developing their strategies for flying under the radar and definitely Zeke who comes up with their battle plans. He’s killed more than six men in the last month and hasn’t been charged once thanks to your boss.”
“And just where are you getting that Intel?”
West pulled out his phone and called up an image of a blonde woman in her mid-twenties. “Amy Gaylord. Zeke’s fiancé.”
Her reaction was more severe than he’d anticipated. She went white and still. He couldn’t tell if she was even breathing. He thought she was going to faint but a sudden intake of air told him different.
“His fiancé?” She whispered.
“You didn’t know about her? Seems they had a bit of a falling out during this last month, something to do with him and the new Deputy. That’s when she opened up to one of my agents. She wanted to get even with Zeke.
“We were cultivating that anger but something happened and they got back together. Last report she’d told my agent to go fuck herself. She and Zeke had set a date – mid June – and she’d deny anything she’d previously told us.”
Roxy sat there in complete silence, not moving, not even blinking. West waited. One minute turned into two that turned into three and the clock ticked on.
Roxy didn’t know what was worse, the pain or the anger. She was hurt more than she imagined she could be that Zeke had not told her about being engaged, that he had used her and her feelings. He’d as much as said that he loved her. They’d shared experiences that were outside the norm, experiences that seemed to point to a connection between them. Obviously he’d played her, used her emotions to deceive her into believing that he cared.
She was embarrassed, disappointed, hurt and angry. She was as angry as she was hurt. Angry that he would treat her in such a way and angry at herself for being so naïve as to not see through the deception.
Anger won out in the end simply because it was easier to be mad than hurt. She knew full well the danger in acting out of anger but at the moment didn’t care. She needed some way to dispel the awful energy the anger filled her with.
She picked up her drink and drained the glass, then stood. “Let’s go.”
West stood. “Where?”
“To your place.”
He didn’t argue. He just tossed money on the table and followed her out. She unlocked the car and climbed in behind the wheel. It was probably stupid to drive but right now she didn’t care. She left a trail of rubber in the parking lot when she left, and broke every speed law all the way to the town limits.
It wasn’t until she turned onto Main street in Harmony that she slowed. West didn’t say a word the whole time. She parked behind the hotel and got out of the car. West led the way in through the back entrance and up the back stairs.
She waited while he unlocked the door and followed him inside, kicking the door closed behind her. She didn’t wait to be asked but walked straight to the bar and filled a glass to the rim with bourbon. She was a bit out of breath when she finished chugging it down, but that didn’t stop her from repeating.
When she’d downed the second glass she picked up the half-empty bottle and turned. West was sitting on the sofa, watching. She crossed the room and sat down beside him, offering the bottle. He accepted and took a long pull then returned it to her.
She swallowed a mouthful and set the bottle on the table. “Tell me about fate, West.”
He had not expected that. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. But you didn’t seem nearly as shocked about what happened as I was. Why is that?”
He considered his words before speaking. “Have you ever met someone and felt immediately that you already knew them?”
She laughed. “If you’d asked me that a year ago – hell even a month ago I’d have laughed in your face. Now? Hell, now I’ve had it happen not once but twice in just over a month and all right here in Harmony, a place I’ve never stepped foot in until five weeks ago.”
“Zeke.” He said, rather than asked.
She nodded, no trace of humor in her expression. “And you.”
“I know.”
“How? How do you know?”
“I don’t know how. I just know that when I saw the photo of you Phillips used for your identification, something happened – I felt something.”
“What?”
West wasn’t sure how honest he could be with her, but didn’t want to lose her at this critical moment. “It was like looking at the face of someone I didn’t know I’d been looking for my entire life.”
What happened next was nothing he had anticipated. She climbed on top of him, straddling his legs and claiming him in a kiss that was more a taking than a sharing. He had no trouble responding. Hell, he could not do anything but respond. He wanted her and would take all she had to give.
It was a frantic tearing of clothes and tangle of limbs as they struggled to undress one another between savage kisses. She stood, pulling him with her as she backed across the room toward the bed. He worked at his belt and pants, letting her mouth rape his as they stumbled their way.
By the time they reached the bed, his pants were unfastened and half way down his legs, along with his underwear. She grabbed his erection as he worked his legs free, closing her mouth over the head. He went weak in the knees at the sensation, so weak that before long he was stopping her. Much more and the action would end.
He pushed her back on the bed and climbed on, lowering himself down on her. She wrapped around him like a python and rolled them over so she was on top. Another onslaught of kissing ensued that had him fearing he would climax before he even got inside her.
She broke free of his lips and rocked back to take hold of him and guide him inside her. Just as their flesh touched, she made a strangled sound and jumped off the bed to run stumbling to the bathroom.
West had no doubt that whatever mind-blowing sex they were about to have was now just a fond dream. She was retching her guts out. It went on for twenty minutes. Finally he heard the water running in the sink. A few moments later she emerged, holding onto the door frame for support.
She made it to the bed and collapsed on top of him. “I used your toothbrush,” she mumbled a second before she passed out.
West eased her off him, leaving her head on his chest. He pulled the sheet up over them and lay staring up at the ceiling. Had he jumped the gun with her?” He wanted her away from Zeke Justice. Not simply because he intended to take Zeke down, but because just like the man he was in that other place had said, he wanted her. She was his and he would do whatever it took to make her see that.
She wanted him. There was no doubt of that. She always had – no matter what reality he saw her in, that had never changed. She might doubt his sincerity or motives, she might fear or mistrust him, but one thing remained constant. No matter how much she tried to deny it, she couldn’t stop wanting him. She loved him. She just didn’t know it yet.
Chapter Thirteen
“H
ey, Art, what’s up?” Carrie Justice greeted him when she opened the door.
“Need to talk to Reese. Stopped by Renegade and Stella said he was here.”
“He just left. You should’ve passed him on your way in.”
“He headed back to the club?”
“Far as I know.”
“Okay, then, I’ll head on over. Sorry for the bother, Carrie.”
“No problem,” she gave him a smile, closed the door and headed to the kitchen table where she’d left her cell phone.
Reese answered on the second ring. “What’s up babe?”
“Art was here looking for you.”
“What’d he want?”
“Don’t know. Said he needs to talk to you. I told him to look for you at the club.”
There was a brief pause before he responded. “Okay. On my way.”
The call ended before she could ask where he was. Not that she could have depended upon him to give her an answer. That was the thing about Reese. He liked calling the shots and hated anyone asking questions.
That’s one of the things that had appealed to her about him all those years ago. Raff would never make a decision on anything without having a family meeting. He wanted everyone to weigh in and let the needs and advice of others shape his decisions.
For a while she’d considered it sweet but after a few years the luster faded. She hated when Eli’s opinion cost her something she wanted, or when Raff would give money to a club brother to help him out when she wanted to use that money for a vacation or new clothes.
She came to resent his way of doing things and then to resent him. Reese was different. He was a take charge and lead kind of guy. Handsome, wild and fearless, he stirred things inside her that had long ago died. He reminded her she was a passionate woman with needs.
Needs that he could satisfy. There was nothing to wild or kinky for Reese, in fact, he introduced her to things she’d never considering trying. She fell hard for him, and even today he stirred her blood in a way no other man had ever been able to do.
But he was not so easy to control, particularly now. Next week the first shipment of meth was due to go out, and the largest shipment of guns the club had ever handled was coming in. The club stood to make a huge profit and Reese wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
Which is why he was keeping as many of the details as possible from Zeke. He didn’t want Zeke anywhere near the lab or involved in any of the meetings regarding the guns. At this point Reese trusted Zeke about as far as he could spit him and Carrie didn’t blame him.
Zeke was pushing his luck with Reese and she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep running interference. It was time for Zeke to step up and support the family, do his part.
The problem was, he wasn’t about to listen to Reese or her. She wasn’t going to be able to get through to him unless she could find something to hold over his head.
A sudden thought made her smile. The new deputy seemed to have caught his attention. Maybe it was time to have a conversation with Art and find out about this Roxy Quinn. There just might be something Carrie could utilize to bring her in line. Then she could use Roxy to bring Zeke in line.
She chuckled and dialed Art’s number.
Zeke was on his way to the clubhouse when he saw Roxy’s car turn into the drive behind the hotel. West Franklin was in the car with her.
Despite his resolve to stay away from her and not drag her into the mess with the MC, jealously boiled bitterly in his gut at the sight. West had always been a player. His interest in a woman lasted until he screwed her and then he was off to his next conquest.
Zeke was tempted to turn around and go back to the hotel. Only the urgency in Eli’s voice when he’d called to tell Zeke to get to the club fast kept him headed in the direction of the MC.
The lot was full when he arrived. He parked and headed for the clubhouse. Before he opened the door he heard the shouting. He went inside and noticed Art standing at the end of the table beside Eli. Reese stood on the opposite end, his face flushed and eyes wild.
Heads turned in his direction as he entered, but it did not stop Reese’s tirade. Zeke took a seat between Eli and Rice as Reese shouted at Art.
“Just when the fuck were you going to tell us about this fucker?” Reese shouted at Art. “What the fuck is the CIA doing in Harmony?”
“Investigating connections between the Mexican Mafia and a South American drug cartel is what I was told.”
“And you don’t think that concerns us?”
“Until I know more there wasn’t anything to tell,” Art replied.
“You fucking—I should blow your goddamn brains out right now!”
“Because I don’t know the details yet?” Art asked and raised his hands, elbows bent and palms out. “Just simmer down and –“
“Simmer down? You goddamn—“ Reese bounded on top of the table and started across it toward Art.
Eli stepped in front of Art to bar Reese’s his way. “Get down from there and listen to the man, you jackass.”
Reese snarled at Eli and reared back as if he were about to hit him. That’s when Zeke stood. “Lay a hand on him and god as my witness it will be the last time you raise a hand to anyone.”
Reese whirled to look down at Zeke. Zeke stared at him, wishing Reese would take a swing at him. He was fed up with Reese and his life was just shitty enough that he would welcome the chance to beat the hell out of the man.
“Hold on, hold on,” Eli intervened, pushing Reese back. “We’ve got enough problems without you two going at it. Just sit down and listen to what Art has to say.”
Reese glowered at him. “Why the fuck should I?”
“Because he’s had our back for twenty-five years and you need to hear him out.”
Reese stared at Eli for a full five seconds before he pivoted and stomped back to the other end of the table and hopped down. He flopped into his chair, assuming a sullen expression.
“Well?” he asked.
Eli and Zeke reclaimed their seats and Art stepped back up to the table. “Morris knows about the guns and the meth and he wants in.”
An uproar ensured with everyone talking at once, their voices turning to shouts to be heard. Zeke was quite certain it would have erupted into something nasty if Eli had not shocked everyone to silence by firing his nine millimeter at the ceiling.
Everyone went silent and Zeke smiled. Eli looked at Art. “How did he find out?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is that he knows and wants in.”
“And why the hell should we do that?” Reese asked.
“Because he has money and resources. If you let him in, he’ll make sure none of you do time for the current charges against you. More importantly, if you let him in you can control him.”
“For how much of our cut?” Reese asked with a sneer.
“He wants half but I’m betting he’ll settle for thirty percent.”
“Thirty percent? No fucking way. I say we shoot the fucker in his goddamn bed.”
Zeke was as surprised by the news as anyone. If Morris knew about their activities, that meant his source was one of two people. Art or West Franklin. Which meant one of them had a game plan no one in the MC had considered.
Still, it opened the door to possibilities that had a certain appeal, so he opted to endorse Eli’s position. “With the feds already on our ass?” He asked, and continued when Reese glared at him. “Think about it. If the feds know about the meth and the cartel connection they’re only inches away from finding out about our involvement, if they don’t know already.
“They don’t have enough to move on us or we wouldn’t be sitting here. So, there’s an investigation but not enough evidence to arrest. We bring Morris in, and for his thirty percent not only does it save your ass from hard time, we make him the front man. You and Razr stay in charge of collections so we control the money, but let Morris take over the scheduling, setting up the shipments and pick-ups using his trucking business. He eats tha
t cost out of his cut.”
“You think for one red hot second we can trust that cunt?”
“We can if he’s drinking from the same well,” Eli answered the question. “Think about it. He won’t risk his own neck to bring us down. And if we play it Zeke’s way, we never touch the guns or the drugs. If someone has to go down it will be Morris. All we do is collections and security. The security detail is legit – for the most part. We get paid to guard the mine. The rest of it falls on Morris. If the feds move in what can they get us for?”
Reese stared at Eli for a few seconds, then stood and put his hands on the table to lean forward. “Get Morris in here for a sit down. But before then, we need some insurance. Doesn’t he have a daughter?”
“Boarding school up north,” Razr answered.
Reese looked at him. “Reach out to our brothers in the area. I want photos and video of the bitch before the meet with Morris. Ones that make it clear we know where she is and can get to her any time we want.”
“We’ll get it done,” Razr assured him.
“Then make it happen,” Reese said to Art.
Art nodded. “I’ll set it up.”
Reese turned his attention to Zeke. “There’s one last condition to the deal.”
Zeke pinned him with a hard stare. “And that is?”
“You’re in. All the way. No more hiding behind mama’s apron and no more excuses. You do what you’re told, when you’re told, no questions.”
Zeke was not surprised by the demand. Reese wanted control over him. No surprise there. He also was not fool enough to think that the demand did not come with hidden motives. Reese would make sure that any high risk task would fall to him. Aside from Rice, he was the only club member who had not served time.
As crazy as it was, to Reese that made him less than a man. Reese had made a point over the years to comment about how Zeke wouldn’t be able to cut it in prison. He’d either be killed or made someone’s bitch inside a week.
Zeke had refused to rise to the bait at the taunts. That would give Reese power and that’s the one thing Zeke would never relinquish to him. Just like this current demand. He met Reese’s stare. “Done.”