by Cat Mason
“No one pities you, Cheyenne.” He takes a step toward me. “People pity the weak. Babe, that ain’t you.”
“Yeah,” I choke out, forcing back the tears that threaten to fall. “Riiiiiight.”
“You know,” he starts, stepping closer. Sliding his fingers beneath my chin, he tips up my face, his eyes searching mine, before dropping to my mouth. His lips part as he breathes. For a second, I think he might actually be about to kiss me. Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with me? “The longer you keep bottlin’ that shit up, the longer it owns you.”
“Aha. So you’re gonna give me advice now?” I ask, managing enough strength to shove him away. “Save it. Why don’t you leave me the fuck alone and go get lost in a pair of fake tits for the night? I don’t need a goddamn babysitter.”
“Last I checked,” he fires back, unaffected by my rant. “That’s not your call and you know it. Now, let’s go back inside.”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” I shove him again. “I’m not one of the hang-arounds. I don’t come when called.”
Gripping my arm, his brown eyes ignite. Heat floods my body, making it almost impossible to think. His jaw ticks. Schrader may be pissed, but he can’t hide the confusion I see in his eyes. It surprises me. That is something you don’t see every day. Jason Schrader isn’t unsure of anything. Ever. What the hell is going on inside his head? “Look.” Squaring his shoulders, he swallows hard. “I know this has been rough on you.”
“Don’t pretend that you know anything about how I feel,” I warn, yanking my arm free. “Because you don’t.”
“Then tell me,” he replies, sounding sincere. “You’ve always been able to talk to me, Shy.”
“No.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why the hell not?”
“Because you aren’t at the table,” I breathe, stepping around him. “You don’t get a vote.”
Making my way around to the front of the clubhouse, I notice Chief McKelvy talking to a dark haired man in a suit. The man’s eyes find me immediately. Their conversation stops, both of them turning to face me. “Cheyenne, this is Agent Hilster. I’m bringing him up to speed before Jace locks the gates.”
“Cheyenne West?” Hilster asks, extending his hand. “Nice to put faces to the names in the files. I went through the file on your husband, Troy. Interesting read.”
“Oh yeah,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes internally as I quickly shake his hand. “I’m sure it’s a hell of a page turner.”
“Please accept my condolences. I’m sure losing him has been very difficult for you,” he asks, clearly sizing me up. “Especially given the circumstances.”
“Given the circumstances?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “Just say it. Troy was a lying, cheating, piece of shit. He beat me up, kidnapped my friend, then was killed by his whore and your man, Laswell. That pretty much sum it all up?”
He nods. “According to witness reports, yes. However, there’s an incinerated crime scene and no bodies. No one has been able to find any trace of any of the wanted parties, or even a glimpse into where they may have gone.”
“If you ask me, it sounds like that was their plan,” I shrug. “But don’t feel too bad about it. I’m sure I’m not on their Christmas card list either.”
“I don’t know about you, Mrs. West, but I take my job very seriously.” Hilster narrows his eyes. “At this point, the investigation remains open and will be pursued to the fullest of my ability as well as—”
“Knock yourself out,” I answer honestly. “Not like I’ve got shit to do with it.”
“Of course not,” he replies, straightening his tie. “In fact, you’d be shocked at the number of law abiding citizens having their homes and places of business blown up now a days.”
“Is that so?” I bite out in reply to his snarky comment.
“Funny how so many of them lead right back here.”
“Listen, asshole—”
“Everything okay out here?” Schrader’s voice booms from behind me, interrupting the ass ripping I want so desperately to give this fucking prick. As much as I wanted away from him only moments ago, right now, I am relieved he has my back.
“Yeah,” I say through clenched teeth, my eyes narrowing on Hilster. “They were just leaving.”
Hilster’s gaze shifts, narrowing in on Schrader. “Nice to see you, Mr. Schrader. I recognize you from your mug shots.”
“Dear God,” McKelvy mutters, swallowing hard as he tugs at his collar. “Here we go.”
“Thanks.” Schrader flashes him a smug smile. “Always great to meet a fan.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Hilster replies, nodding thoughtfully. “Though, I have to say, I was more eager to meet the woman who is the eyes and ears of the entire compound. Must make for some very interesting days.” His eyes move to me. “I’m sure you could write a book.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, rolling my eyes at his insinuation. “A cookbook. I spend most of my time behind the bar or in the kitchen. It’s super exciting.”
“As I’m sure you know,” he continues. “Your husband was a very busy man. I’m interested to hear what you know about that.”
“Everything that I know is in my statement.” I breathe deeply, hating that I am being forced to talk about this shit again. “Turns out Troy liked to keep everyone in the dark. Especially me.”
“Oh. Is that so? Then you wouldn’t know anything about his involvement with Antonio Lorzano?”
“Who?” I ask, racking my brain.
“Time for you to go, Five-oh.” Schrader is at my side, hovering over me defensively. “It’s been real.”
“Of course,” Stepping forward, Agent Hilster stares Schrader down. “We have plenty of time to get to know each other while I do everything in my power to tear this club apart and lock you all up for the rest of your lives.”
“Oh yeah?” Schrader taunts, a smirk spreading across his face. Taking a step back, he spreads his arms wide. “Bring it, Pig. Squad cars in my side mirror make my dick hard.”
The breath rushes out of me in a whoosh. Turning, I look up at Schrader, my jaw nearly bouncing off the pavement at his words. His arm slips around me, pulling me tightly into his side. “Stop,” I mouth, knowing good and well it is a bad fucking idea to taunt a Federal Agent.
Hilster sighs. When I meet his green eyes, I see resolution in them. And determination. This guy is going to be a problem. I can feel it in my gut. “It was a pleasure, Mrs. West.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a card and extends it to me. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Looking forward to it.”
“Not as much as I am, asshole.” Without letting go of me, Schrader yanks the card from his fingers. Not bothering to look at it, he tosses it to the ground. “Next time you show up to stir the shit pot, you better bring a warrant and some backup.”
“Sure thing,” Hilster challenges. Heading for his car, he waves smugly. “Be seeing you soon.” Saying nothing, McKelvy follows.
“You couldn’t help yourself, could you, Schrader?” I hiss. Shoving him away, I storm toward the front doors of the clubhouse.
“What?” he asks, catching up to me quickly.
“Not enough shit burnin’ around here, you gotta go light a fire under the already agitated ass of a Federal Agent?” I ask, shaking my head. “If he wasn’t determined before to shake loose some dirt, he sure as hell is now.”
“Don’t sweat that fucker,” he says dismissively. Grabbing my wrist, he spins me to face him. Brushing the hair from my face, he gives me a reassuring smile. His touch makes me shiver. “We’re always in someone’s crosshairs. Nothin’ we can’t handle.”
I wish I could believe him. The problem is, when you’re betrayed by the person you trusted the most, you begin to question everything. “Bullshit. Who the hell is Antonio Lorzano? You didn’t turn into a raging asshole until he dropped that name.”
“I’m not a raging asshole.�
� His brow quirks up. “I’m a defensive prick.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Answer the question. Who is that guy and why was Troy involved with him?”
“I don’t know.” Schrader’s jaw ticks angrily, but his thumb absentmindedly strokes up and down the inside of my upper arm. “But, whatever that fucker’s association was with Lorzano, it wasn’t approved by the club.”
Just as I had figured, Schrader grabs up my brother and disappears down the hall as soon as we walk inside. They have no doubt gone to call Stone to bring him up to speed. Grabbing a beer from behind the bar, I glance up and see Ro and Nita heading my way, carrying plates of food.
“Hey! How’s the hand?” Ro asks, hopping up on a stool.
“Just a burn. Nothin’ serious,” I murmur, taking a quick swallow from the bottle. “Hey, Nita.”
“There you are,” she smiles, taking the seat beside Ro. “You’ve not been out to see me. I’ve missed you.”
“Sorry. I’ve been busy.”
Growing up, I was always closer to Nita than the other women here. Granted most of the other women were hang arounds. Those ladies never lasted. Though well into her fifties, Nita’s hair is still the same shade of fire engine red it has always been, thanks to her monthly appointments with Geri down at the Beauty Bombshell. After years of back breaking farm work, and a life filled with Huck’s craziness, she still doesn’t look a day over forty.
She also shoots straight from the hip and has a heart of gold.
If I could have picked my mother, it would have been her.
“Food’s good, Cheyenne,” Nita blurts, ignoring my excuses. “You should sit down here with us and have some. Then take your ass to bed and get some sleep.”
“That your nice way of sayin’ I look like shit?”
“The truth’s the truth, sweetheart,” she deadpans, pointing her fork at me. “Only lies come sugarcoated.”
“That’s okay,” I shrug, then hold up my bottle. “I’ve got myself a chaser. I’ll be in the kitchen. If you bitches are gonna give me any more shit, you’ll have to do it while helpin’ me bake.”
Chapter Six
Schrader
“Lorzano,” Stone mutters, slamming his fist down on the table. “Son of a bitch.”
After Jinks and I informed Stone of our new friendly Fed, and I gave him the highlights of the conversation, he and Colt rode straight back after meeting with Merc. It is safe to say a Fed showing up and throwing around the name Lorzano is enough to get anyone jumping into action.
“Guess we know where the coke was comin’ from,” I reply. “That Hilster fuck is gonna be settin’ up shop right on our front porch.”
“Figures. D.A.’s been fuckin’ quartered and fed to the hogs, but is still causin’ us problems,” Doc bites out, his entire face blood red with rage. “Fuckin’ idiot successfully tied us to the biggest goddamn drug runner this side of the border.”
“Talked to Merc,” Stone explains. “Our arrangement with Teague is over. Word of that’s already tricklin’ down the pipeline.”
“Yeah,” Colt nods. “Merc was expectin’ us. He’s offered to send up Jet and Blip to help out. More if we need ‘em.”
“We’re gonna need numbers.” I look to Stone. “But even numbers won’t help when it comes to Lorzano.”
“Or if we’re all behind bars and bullet proof glass for the next twenty-five years,” Jinks shudders. “No WIFI and no pussy. They’ll have to put me and my dick on suicide watch.”
“Tell your cock to put the noose down, nobody’s goin’ to jail,” Stone announces. “I’m gonna reach out to Lorzano. Set up a meet and figure out how this shit lands with him. Until then, our asses stay clean and no woman leaves alone. Between Teague and Hilster I’m not takin’ any chances.”
“Fuck.” Scrubbing my hand over my face, I blow out a breath. “Better lock Shy and Ro in the bunker with Connor.”
Nodding his head, Doc laughs. “Be a hell of a lot easier than arguin’ with ‘em about it.”
“How is Connor?” I ask, waggling my brows. “In any pain?”
“He wouldn’t stop talkin’ so I started pumpin’ him with pain killers,” Huck chuckles. “Fucker doesn’t even know what planet he’s on.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I mutter, yanking my smokes from my pocket. “Should be whackin’ that leg with a tire iron.”
“Well, hell,” Doc laughs. “If Huckleberry wanted meaningless conversation, he’d go home to his Ol’ Lady. She can read from the Farmer’s Almanac as long as she sits on his face.”
“That the secret to a long and happy marriage, Huck?” Torch asks, a smile nearly splitting his face.
“Damn right it is,” he grunts, proudly.
“Don’t forget anal.” I light my cigarette. “A woman isn’t truly yours until you’ve gotten in her ass.”
“Hell yeah,” Colt laughs, reaching across the table to bump my fist. “Woman says she loves you and gives you access to the promised land, you put a ring on her.”
“Christ,” Stone says, shaking his head. “All in favor of a meet up with Lorzano?” Once everyone grunts in agreement, he begins tapping on the table. “Jinks, need you running the angles. I want to know everything about Antonio Lorzano that you can find before I sit across from him. Also want you to dig into Troy. We need to know what that bastard was doin’ with his free time, along with the cash he was pocketin’ behind our backs. Not just for us, but for Shy. His shit lands on her, too. Huck and Doc will be in and out between Shadow Ridge, runnin’ ‘shine and dealin’ with Connor. Torch, check in with McKelvy and see what he knows about Hilster.”
“You got it, Prez,” Torch replies, with a nod.
“Schrader,” Stone says, glancing my way. “You stay on Shy like a shadow.”
“Me?” I ask, shocked by his order.
“Him?” Jinks asks, his eyes shooting to me.
“It should be Schrader,” Doc says, agreeing with Stone. He looks at Jinks. “If it were me or you, Son, she’d blow a gasket.”
“She’s still gonna be pissed,” I mutter, unable to hide my amusement. Telling Shy what to do doesn’t go over well. Never has. You might as well stand back and watch her do exactly what you’ve asked her not to. That woman is even more stubborn than she is independent.
Not that that is a bad thing.
She is pretty damn cute when she gets all amped up.
“I don’t doubt it,” Doc replies with a chuckle. “But, other than me, there’s no one I trust to protect her more than you, Schrader.”
“You kiddin’ me with this shit?” Jinks huffs, rolling his eyes. “There’s no one I trust to protect her more than you, Schrader. I’m sittin’ right here, ya hateful old prick.”
“Yeah, I know.” Leaning back in his chair, Doc laughs. “I also know my daughter. Girl’s like a feed sack full of angry rattlesnakes when she’s backed into a corner.” His eyes move to me. “Schrader’s good at diffusin’ that.”
“They’ve always been thick as thieves,” Huck chuckles.
“That settles it,” Stone says, lacing his fingers. “There’s one more thing we need to put out on the table. Jace wants to prospect.”
“Oh,” I chuckle. “So he’s more than a mascot?”
“We all had a feelin’ it was comin’ to this,” Stone explains. “Been doin’ grunt work for the last few weeks and never complains. Kid wants the patch. Says he’s ready to prove he has what it takes to earn it. Whatever it takes.”
“I’ll vouch for him. I think he’s ready,” Huck adds with a nod. “When shit got thick he stepped the fuck up without a patch. I say make it official and see if he can hack it. Plus, it’ll do Schrader some good to have someone here prettier than him.”
“Fuck you,” I laugh, flipping him off. “Someone needs to tell him when we say bike we mean Harley and not Huffy.”
“He’s all set,” Torch says, leaning back in his chair. “I sold him my old Sportster.”
“You sold him the
Frankencycle?” I laugh, slapping the table. “Give him the patch now, Prez. That way he has a chance to wear it before he bursts into flames on the highway.”
“Dickhead,” Torch fires back, flipping me off.
“Anyone against Jace bein’ a prospect?” Stone asks, his eyes scanning each of our faces. “That’s it then,” he adds, when no one says anything. Grabbing up his gavel, he nods, then slams it to the table. “Let him sweat over the vote for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, we’ll give him his cut.”
“You’re a cruel bastard,” I laugh as we push to our feet. “Just like Vic was.”
“Hell,” Doc says, stretching his arms over his head. “Vic was a goddamn softy. Huck and I wanted to make you two shitheads suffer at least a week.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Torch teases, slapping him on the back. “That why you said to hurry up and tell ‘em so we could use it as an excuse to throw a party?”
Opening the door, Doc arches a brow. “Rule one, asshole. You never need an excuse to have a good time.”
Walking out of the chapel, my eyes immediately land on Shy, heading for the front doors. Carrying two plastic bins, she is already dressed for the day in a tight red t-shirt and a jean skirt that shows off her long tan legs. She looks hot.
I don’t know what the hell is going on inside my head. I had every intention of hashing it all out with her last night, along with wanting to kiss her to see if it measured up to the shit going on in my head. Until, that Hilster fucker showed up, talking about D.A. having ties to Lorzano.
That had to take top priority.
“Hey, Sweetness,” I call out, jogging her way. “Where you headed with those?”
“Don’t have time to play games with you this morning, Schrader,” she mutters, adjusting the bins in her arms when I try to pry open one of the corners to take a peek. “I’m running late.”
“Hand ‘em over,” I tell her, hoisting them from her arms. “They goin’ in the back of your car?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, sounding surprised.
“Gotcha. I’m ready whenever you are.” Shoving open the door, I head down the ramp toward Shy’s little black compact.