by Cat Mason
“No,” she replies, batting her eyes innocently. “You did.”
“Jesus,” I groan, covering my face with my hand.
“Come on,” she pleads, nudging my arm. “I’ve seen his ass up close and personal when I stitched it up. Tell me all about how you bit into it like Mrs. PACMAN the moment you got his pants off.”
Blowing out a breath, I drop my hand to scrutinizing gaze. “Schrader and I are friends,” I argue, to which she arches her brow higher. “Okay. Friends who had sex once.”
“Once?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot expectantly.
“Twice.” My face flames, making her laugh.
“You’re sure it isn’t his?” she asks thoughtfully, a glimmer of hope sparking in her eyes.
“Unless it was conceived in the last twenty-four hours, and Schrader’s swimmers can slice through latex, then no. It’s Troy’s.”
“Okay. But it’s yours, too.” Henley smiles sadly, her eyes dropping to my stomach. Grabbing her part of the paperwork, she heads for the door. Gripping the door handle, she stops. Her shoulders slump slightly, but she doesn’t turn to look at me. “Promise me you won’t get so wrapped up in your hate for Troy and what he did, and forget that.”
Chapter Fifteen
Schrader
I hate hospitals.
The eerie silences that are only broken by shrill sirens and panic-filled screams, along with the stench of industrial cleaner, grief, and death, is enough to send me into a state of panic. If I weren’t already on the edge of losing my shit, that is. Growing up, I spent enough time walking the sterile white halls of enough hospitals and rehab facilities to do me for the rest of my life, while I silently wondered if this would be the time my mom would die from her habit. Out of all those times, not one of them affected me this way.
The goddamn car came out of nowhere, bullets flying in before I could even register where the hell they were coming from. Thank fuck my instincts kicked in. The bullet holes peppering the driver side door of her car, along with the ones lodged in the tree not three feet from where we were hunkered down, made it real goddamn clear how close of a call this was. I could never forgive myself if something happened to her.
I wasn’t built to feel fear; not even as a kid. The way I live my life, there isn’t any room for it in my head. Fear is nothing but an emotion driven to cause hesitation. If you are unable to react in the heat of the moment, you’re as good as fucking dead. But the second I saw she was bleeding, I felt it clawing at my throat.
Shy hasn’t said a word since we left the hospital. To be more accurate, she hasn’t said a word to me. The forced smile she had on her face for Jinks faded the moment we climbed into her car to head back to Legion Falls. Yes, she has been through hell today, but I also know she is still pissed at me.
I tend to have that effect on her lately.
This goes to show that not even a community crippling drive by shooting can help a man dodge a conversation where he has to face what he has done to piss off the woman currently giving him the razor-sharp side eye from the passenger seat.
A woman’s temper is a deadly weapon and her tongue is the sharpest blade in her arsenal.
“I want to talk about what happened back at the police station,” I inform her, turning off the stereo.
Cheyenne sighs, her eyes shifting to look out the window. “Is this the part where you tell me not to be a victim?”
“No, it’s where I apologize about Rachelle.”
“Why are you apologizing?” she asks, shifting in her seat. “You boned the hot lawyer. High-five!”
“Shy.” I reach for her hand, but she quickly jerks it away.
“I’m not mad, Schrader,” she says calmly. “Why should I be? You don’t owe me anything; I already told you that. This is who you are, what you do.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” I ask defensively.
“It means there are two types of men in this world, Schrader. The Hucks and the Vics.” Meeting my eyes, she shrugs her shoulders. “You’re a Vic. You fuck and move on, fuck and move on. It’s one of the reasons why I didn’t want this to happen between us in the first place. It isn’t in you to be with one woman and I have no desire to be with a man who is always going to jump from pussy to pussy.”
Her words are a slap in the face, meant to hurt me. I know what she is trying to do. I only wish I knew why.
“My turn to talk now, Babe.” Steering through gates, I park as close to the clubhouse steps as I can get and shut off the engine. Grabbing her wrist, I wait until she meets my eyes, wanting to make damn sure she hears every word I have to say. “I know what I want, and it sure as hell ain’t up some lawyer’s skirt. I’m not Vic, Huck, or any other shithead you wanna compare me to. You know my name all too well, darlin’.” Leaning in close, I flash her a smile. “You’ve screamed it.”
Releasing her, I climb out of the car as everyone starts to swarm around us. Shy barely manages to make it to her feet before Ro comes running across the lot from the picnic tables. “We were so worried,” she says, wrapping Shy in a tight hug. “Are you okay?”
“I’m a Jinks,” she answers, patting Ro on the back. “We’ve got nine lives.”
“Lookin’ at the side of this car,” Doc says, coming up beside me, his eyes taking in the damage. “I’d say ya damn near lost one, baby girl.” Looking over at me, he jerks his chin. “Thank you,” he says quietly, before lighting a cigarette.
“Not lettin’ anything happen to our girl,” I reply, taking a smoke from his pack when he offers it to me.
“Good man.” His expression changes at my words. He seems satisfied, happy even.
Stone steps outside, his eyes finding me immediately. “Need a minute,” he says, his face unreadable. “Bring Shy. This involves her too.”
Shy says something to Ro, her eyes move to me, but just as quickly, I lose them again as she turns away and makes her way to up the steps. I follow closely behind her, trying to get a read on what is going through her head. “Give me five minutes?” she asks Stone, stopping short of the opened doors.
“Of course.”
Carrying her bag and a big envelope, Shy heads inside and disappears down the hallway. “That gunfire today meant for me?” I ask, my eyes still locked on the hallway.
“Isn’t all gunfire usually meant for you?” Stone deadpans.
“Unless it’s caused by me,” I shrug. “Damn shame my piece was in the car.”
Stone nods his head thoughtfully. “Shy making a trip to the E.R. is bad enough without you in a holding cell.”
Not wanting to go into the chapel, since we are waiting on Shy, Stone and I walk over to the bar with Colt and Doc following. “Jinks grabbing her meds?” Doc asks.
I nod. “How’d the meet with Lorzano go?”
“He’s not very happy that you sliced up one of his guys, but we’ve got bigger problems at the moment.” Walking behind the bar, Stone grabs a beer from the upright cooler. “Turns out Troy had a deal set up with Lorzano to sell drugs to Teague. He coordinated all the exchanges out of the warehouse with Connor, while playing both sides to his benefit.” Stone’s jaw ticks angrily. “He lied to Lorzano about how much he charged Teague. Connor was in on it too.”
“That’s where the money under the seat of his truck came from,” I say, piecing shit together in my head. “Look at that? Connor lied.”
“I never doubted he’s involved,” Stone replies, his eyes hardening. “The amount was what was in question.”
“Now we know,” Colt says through gritted teeth.
“Rat bastards,” Doc growls from beside me. “They were skimming off the top.”
“More like scooping,” Colt huffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Lorzano says Teague was paying nearly double what he was told. Those two fucks were makin’ bank on this scam.”
“Okay, I get that they’re pissed they got burned, but what the fuck does that have to do with us?” I ask, my eyes shi
fting between the three of them. “We didn’t agree to this shit. Hell, we had fuck all to do with it.”
“Because it’s not the club he wants,” Cheyenne’s voice has all of us turning to see her step into the room. “It’s me.”
“Not a fuckin’ chance,” I growl, slamming my fist down on the bar. “No way Shy’s payin’ the tab for that son of a bitch. Troy dug his own grave, it’s not our problem people are pissed over not being the ones to put him there.”
“Shy is protected,” Doc’s voice is cool and confident. “Always.”
“I’ve offered him Connor, along with the cash we found in the truck.” Stone scrapes at the corner of the label on his bottle. “If he accepts it, we move on to dealing with his beef with Schrader and Colt.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I ask, not giving two shits what he wants from me.
“If I knew where Troy stashed thousands of dollars in stolen drug money, I’d toss it into the back of my car and drive it over there myself. I’ve been dealin’ with the guilt of the shit he did every goddamn day since he busted me up and hauled ass. Me, not any-fuckin’-body-else. I haven’t asked anyone for pity or understanding. Don’t fuckin’ want that shit. I should’ve known. Shoulda seen that shit happenin’ right in front of my goddamn face. I didn’t, and that’s on me.”
Doc shakes his head. “That burden’s not all for you, baby girl. We all carry our share.”
“You can have mine anytime you’re thirsty for more. My plate’s full,” Cheyenne says before anyone else can speak. “You tell Lorzano, if the bastard didn’t give it to his whore before she killed him, it’s all his as soon as I find it.” Balling her hands at her sides, she takes a deep breath. “When this is over, if I hear anyone ever mention the name Troy West again,” she bites out, her eyes filling with rage as a tear slips down her face. “I’ll rip their fucking tongue out.”
“Shy,” Doc starts, but her hand comes up immediately.
“I can’t deal with this shit right now.” Her eyes move to Doc. “I’m sorry, Pop.” Not waiting for a response, she turns her back and disappears down the hall again.
“I’d sell my soul for a shot at that bastard,” Doc says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “No hate in this world greater than the one a man feels when someone hurts his child.”
“I’ll check on her.”
“You gonna go diffuse that shit?” Colt asks, jerking his chin in the direction Shy just headed. “Your girl’s reached max. Could get violent.”
“I can handle it.”
Arching a brow, Doc leans into the bar and studies me, his smile damn near splitting his face. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me?”
Pushing from the stool, I shake my head. “Nothin’ you don’t already know, Old Man.”
Making my way down the hall, I stop outside her door when a boot flies through the air, slamming into the opposite wall, before joining a pile of shoes and clothes on the tile. “Cheyenne?” I ask, not wanting to move into the line of fire. Who the hell knows what she will throw next. “Babe, what the hell are you doing? There’s no way he hid that kind of cash in here where you’d find it.”
“I want it gone,” she grunts, shoving a box full of motorcycle magazines out of the room. “Every fucking trace of that son of a bitch. If you’re not here to help me, then you’re in my way. And trust me, Schrader, you don’t wanna be in my way right now. You feel me?” Her eyes meet mine, the pain in her deep blues hurt like a bitch. I would gladly take a bullet, every day, for the rest of my life to never have to see her hurt like this.
Grabbing the big rolling trashcan Jinks keeps in his room, I help Shy load as much as we can into it before it starts to overflow. Tossing a can of lighter fluid into a box full of photos and letters, she lifts it into her arms and heads for the backdoor. Pushing the can behind her, I follow her out to the fire pit. Not wasting any time, Shy grabs some of the shit from the can and tosses it into the pit. “Hilster thinks that the club is in with Lorzano. They were doing surveillance at the place in Milford and have photos of him with Troy.” Grabbing the lighter fluid, she soaks down the pile before tossing it to me. Taking a box of matches from her back pocket, she strikes one on the side and tosses it into the pit. “Wanna know the last thing Troy ever said to me?”
His name on her lips is like a punch to the gut. I want to cut him from her memory, from her heart. His memory has no fucking right to occupy space in her mind. Or her heart. “Babe.” Stepping closer, I wrap my arms around her from behind.
“The night he killed Hoss and took Roanne,” she continues, thankfully not mentioning what he did to her. Every time I think about the bruises she wore for weeks after, because of him, I see nothing but red. “He leaned down, pulled the hair out of my face, and told me how stupid I was for believin’ he still loved me.” She laughs sadly, her eyes still locked on the flames. “The consequences of believin’ his lies are going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”
Chapter Sixteen
Shy
One week after the drive by shooting outside the police station, the entire town shuts down for Chief McKelvy’s funeral. A man who built his career on using the piece of tin on his chest to line his pockets with club kickbacks, is being honored as a fallen hero. Not that he was a bad man, he wasn’t. McKelvy had his flaws, but he never really hurt anyone. It just surprises me how little the town knows about someone before placing them on some impossibly high pedestal.
According to Schrader, Lorzano hasn’t responded to the offer Stone left on the table at their meet. He assures me it isn’t a refusal, that Lorzano is smart by letting the heat die down before reaching out. I don’t buy it. Paranoia is my new best friend. I have an internal panic attack every time someone leaves the compound.
Instead of waiting for Lorzano to figure out whether he will be satisfied with some chump change and a truck driver, I have turned the entire compound upside down, hoping to find some clue to help me find where Troy hid the money.
My findings are disappointing.
Not that I expected it to be as easy as checking the pants pockets of his dirty jeans.
Slipping my sunglasses on, I step outside to see some of the guys getting their bikes ready to ride. Knowing that the club has always been close with McKelvy, it was no surprise when his wife asked Stone and the guys to lead the hearse through town to the cemetery. Stopping beside Roanne, at the bottom of the steps, I find Schrader immediately. Today, instead of the t-shirts he usually wears, that stretch over every inch of his torso, he has on a blue long sleeve dress shirt on beneath his leather. His normally unruly blonde hair, is slicked back out of his face. I have to stop myself from walking over there and messing it up with my fingers. Especially when I notice the smile I always look for is missing from his face this morning. He looks nothing like the easy-going man that has been the shadow I can’t shake over the last several days.
“Wanna ride with me to the cemetery?” I ask, pulling my keys from my bag, excited to actually get behind the wheel of my car again, now that the guys have patched up the bullet holes.
“Like he’s gonna let you drive your car,” Ro snorts sarcastically.
Schrader glances over at us and pats the space on the seat behind him. “No.” Shaking my head, I hold up my keys. “I’m driving myself.” His brow rises, silently challenging me.
“Take it from me, Shy,” Ro says quietly, nudging me with her elbow. “Sometimes, you should just say yes.” Her eyes move to Stone and she smiles. “On second thought, the fight can be fun too.”
“I feel like this conversation is about more than how I get to the funeral.”
Shaking her head, she laughs. “Like it was ever about that.” Walking away from me, she heads for Stone. Wrapping an arm around her, the moment she is within his reach, he pulls her in for a quick kiss before she climbs on behind him.
Instead of my feet taking me to my car, every step brings me closer to Schrader. “You got a kiss for me too?” he asks with a wicked grin.
&n
bsp; “No, actually; I’m all out of kisses and give a damn,” I deadpan, sliding the strap of my bag across my body, messenger bag style.
“That’s fine,” he chuckles. “Save that sugar sweet for when no one’s watchin’. I don’t mind.”
“Do you want me to ride with you, or not?” I ask, ready to shove my sugar sweet fist up his rosy red ass.
“Of course I do. My girl belongs on the back of my bike,” his reply is matter of fact, and not what I expected from him at all.
“Your girl?” I ask sarcastically, ready to tell him to kiss my ass.
“Yeah, Babe. My. Girl.” Pulling the sunglasses from his face, he looks up at me. His brown eyes stop me in my tracks, the breath lodging in my chest. Snatching my hand, he pulls me close enough to get an arm around me. “Time you get your head around it and start seein’ that I’m all about you, woman.”
I don’t have to look around to know everyone’s eyes are on us as they eavesdrop on our very personal conversation. I feel it. “We’ll talk about this later,” I bite out, keeping my voice low.
“You’ve got a thing for my sister?” Decoda’s voice carries from across the lot.
“Thinkin’ that’s pretty goddamn obvious,” Pop deadpans from behind me. Grabbing onto Schrader’s handlebars, Pop stares Schrader down. “Also pretty sure it goes without sayin’, if you hurt my little girl, there won’t be enough left of you to feed the goddamn worms once I’m done.”
“Jesus, Pop,” I blurt, narrowing my eyes. Grabbing onto Schrader’s shoulders, I settle on the seat behind him. “Pretty sure there’s more important shit to hash out right now.”
“One of these days, baby girl,” Pop says, one side of his mouth quirking up. “You’ll realize there’s very little in this world more important than your children. Doesn’t matter what you have to do, or go through, as long as they’re happy and healthy. Just hope I’ll be there when that times come to say I told ya so.”