by Cora Black
By the time mom showed up, Emma was coloring while I read a book. Funny how little pleasure reading I’d managed to get done after leaving Eric. I’d lost so much of myself, both to him and then after I left. When I opened the door for mom to enter, I laughed at the sight of two grocery bags.
“What’s so funny?” she asked as I took the bags so she could hug Emma.
“Nothing. It’s a long story. Thank you for the food,” I said. I went to the kitchen to unload, then texted Dom that I already had more than enough food thanks to my mother. He asked what she’d brought, and I gave him the brief rundown, though I didn’t think he needed to know, particularly. He didn’t reply. I thought he might have felt a little insulted that he couldn’t prove his masculinity by providing food for his weak little females.
“You want a cup of tea?” I asked, smiling to find a box of chai tea bags in with the rest of the haul.
“Yes, please. Lots of milk.”
I went about heating the water while I put away the rest of the food. Lots of spaghetti—the one thing we knew Emma loved to eat. Cereal, tuna, bread, milk, chicken, rice…lots of staples, plus fresh and frozen veggies and a bunch of bananas. I thought we would do okay for a while with everything she’d bought.
“You really didn’t have to do that,” I said, sitting down with her and handing her one of two mugs. “I mean it.”
“Would you just accept someone taking care of you for once? You know you like it. Just admit it.” I wondered how she would feel if she knew how much she sounded like a certain biker I happened to know.
“Okay. Thank you. I just hate to think of everybody’s lives thrown around because of Eric.”
“That’s not your fault. You’re making the only choice you can make.”
“Hey, Grandma,” Emma said from her spot on the floor. She was on her stomach, coloring away. “Do you know Dom?”
My heart sank. I should have told her not to mention him—then again, I didn’t want to teach her to be a liar. Mom looked at me, eyebrows raised. “No, dear,” she said, eyes locked with mine. “I don’t know Dom. Tell me about him.”
“Mom…” I said. She held up a hand to silence me.
“Well.” Emma sat up, legs crossed, to count off Dom’s attributes one at a time on her little fingers. “He’s a big giant man. He’s funny. He likes mommy’s meatballs like I do. Um…he rides a motorcycle.”
“He does? That’s interesting.” Mom kept smiling, but I heard the sinister note in her voice.
“And he stayed with us last night, but he had stuff he had to do.” Her job complete, my daughter went back to coloring. She couldn’t have done a better job of sinking me if she’d tried.
“Well, he sounds like a very nice person,” Mom said. Her smile was tight. “Can I talk to you in the kitchen?” She was off the sofa and on her way without waiting for me to reply. I dragged my feet like a woman on her way to the electric chair. That might have been better than what my mom would give me, I thought.
“Is this the one you told me about?” Mom whispered angrily.
“Yes,” I said. “He’s the one. He looked for me at the diner yesterday, and Darlene gave him the address.”
“You should have a few words with Darlene,” Mom advised. “Like about privacy, and how you don’t appreciate people violating yours like that.”
“Yes, Mom. I know.”
“It doesn’t sound like you know. And don’t roll your eyes at me, I swear.” I looked at the floor instead, feeling for all the world like a kid who got caught breaking curfew. “What sort of example is this for your daughter?”
“Mom, please. I can’t take this right now. He didn’t stay over to sleep with me, for God’s sake.” Mom scoffed, clearly offended by my bluntness. “It’s true. It’s not like he came over and I said, ‘Hey, baby, I’m single, let’s do it.’ He came over to check and make sure we were okay. He thought it was a big red flag when I didn’t go to work, and yes, Darlene should have kept my address to herself, but I can’t change that. All I know is I slept well last night.” I didn’t tell her it was because we had, in fact, slept together.
“You know what else?” I continued. “I felt better. Safer, for the first time all week. Funny, huh? In the presence of an outlaw. I felt safe and protected, and I felt even better knowing that he would take a bullet for my child. Emma laughed and laughed when we ate dinner together. She felt safe, too. I know she’s just a little kid, but you know how she picks up on things. She’s not stupid. She knows something is wrong, or else why wouldn’t I let her go to school? She never once asked me about it this morning.”
“That’s good, at least,” Mom said. I could tell it killed her to admit she was wrong, so I didn’t wait for her to say it.
“He just wants to help. Like you said, I have to learn how to accept help when it comes to me.”
“I didn’t mean from people like him,” she pointed out, her voice sour.
“You don’t know him,” I said. “And I know that sounds like my typical response. Especially when you had a problem with Eric. I was wrong then, but I’m not wrong now. Jesus, I’m not talking about marrying the man. Just letting him help me, because I need all the help I can get.”
“You don’t think he’ll…kill him, do you?” Her eyes were wide.
“No. I wouldn’t want him to, though he wants to.”
Mom gasped. “Kara!”
“Come on. Haven’t you wanted to? When I told you everything that happened?”
“Well, yes, but I wouldn’t do anything about it.”
“We can’t assume he would either. Just relax. It’ll be okay.” I wasn’t sure how, but it had to be. It just had to be. “In the meantime, let’s put this behind us and enjoy the rest of the day with Emma. I don’t want her thinking there’s anything to be afraid of, especially from Dom. I need her to trust him.”
“Whatever you say,” Mom said, much in the way she would have delivered the line, “It’s your funeral.”
I sighed, shaking my head. Like I didn’t have enough on my plate.
“Hey, Mama?” Emma finished her picture, bringing it to me.
“That’s beautiful, sweetheart. You’re such a great artist. You wanna hang it on the fridge with the others?”
She gave me a shy grin, ducking her head. “No. I wanna give it to Dom. Can I?”
“Sure, honey. When he gets back.” I kissed the top of her head, deliberately avoiding my mother’s scornful gaze. Yes, I knew how dangerous it was for my little girl to become too attached to him, but there was nothing else I could do. If I had any hope of the next however many days going smoothly, she had to like Dom. Otherwise, she’d only heap a lot more trouble onto an already crappy situation.
Chapter Seventeen
Dom
The last thing I thought I would see when I came out of the bedroom was the kid. I was glad Kara had caught me before I made up a stupid bullshit story about how I…did something that meant I had to be in the bedroom instead of on the couch.
I was glad for the ride on my bike, too. I needed to clear my head, and riding was the only thing that ever really did it for me. The night with Kara had been good—better than good. It had been the first night since I lost Lauren that I had felt really happy with a woman. Not, like, cheesy romance happy. Not the kind of happy that only happened in movies. But real happiness. Comfort. Connection. I didn’t know how much I’d missed it until I had it again.
I didn’t know how much I had missed my clubhouse until I pulled up in front of it either, and I had only been away a day. Less than a day. How was it possible that so much had happened in so short a time? It felt like weeks instead of hours.
From the number of bikes out front, I could tell most of the club had spent the night in the bedrooms we kept on the second and third floors. It was always safer to give the guys a place to sleep it off after a good party. We were already in enough trouble with the law. We didn’t need the guys getting themselves arrested or God forbid killing somebo
dy. Or themselves.
When I walked through the front door, all I could smell was vomit. “Oh shit,” I said, holding my nose. “Who the fuck puked in here?” I looked around, and the sight of club members and groupies stretched out over every flat surface made me laugh and cringe at the same time. I had missed a hell of a party. I wasn’t sure if I was jealous or glad.
Spike was asleep on the pool table, a blonde whose name I didn’t know in his arms. She wasn’t wearing a top, and her big, fake tits spilled out. Rat had fallen asleep with a woman’s hand down his pants, the woman on top of him. Like they had been in the middle of making out or more before they both passed out. I saw Jax stretched out on the couch in Chase’s office, and I went there to talk to him. I didn’t care about waking him up—I looked forward to it, actually.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned when I shoved him. “What the hell happened?”
“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” I said, snorting with laughter. “It looks like the last fucking days of Rome out there. And it reeks of puke. We’re gonna have to get a cleaning crew out here to take care of the smell.”
“Nah, have a couple of the prospects do it. That’s what they’re for.” He had a point, and I shrugged it off. I stepped back, letting him slowly sit up like he was testing to make sure sitting up was even a good idea. “Holy hell. I can’t believe we partied that hard, man.”
“I was thinking the same damn thing. I guess when you’re sober, you see things clearer.” I leaned against Chase’s desk. “Where’s the big man, anyway?”
“Upstairs. I saw him go up there with Trisha early on in the night.”
I nodded. He would never have cheated on his old lady. Trisha was a patient woman, but she told him straight-up that she’d cut his balls off if she ever found out he cheated on her with one of our regular girls. That got me thinking.
“What about Evie and Layla? You have fun with them?”
Jax groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face, then looking at them in horror. “Oh fuck. Did I even wash my hands after?”
“Oh, come on. You’re fucking sick.”
He stumbled to the bathroom just off of Chase’s office, washing up, then washing his face. He came back in, hair slicked back. “I feel a little more human now,” he said. “Yeah, they drained the life outta me.”
“So both at once, huh?”
“It was either that or let one of ’em go off with Rat. He’s a good guy and I’m glad he’s in the club now, but I’ll be fucked if I let him take one of them away from me.”
I laughed. “Yeah, Rat’s not in that league yet. Maybe one day, when both balls drop.” He was sorta the club mascot in a way, the young, skinny kid who nobody would thought would patch into a club like the Blood Riders. Looks deceived. He always came through when we needed him, and could be just as tough and cold as any of us.
“What about you, man? Where have you been? You didn’t say last night…or maybe I just don’t remember.”
“Y’all have to rethink starting parties in the afternoon.” I laughed. “I’m surprised you’re still alive.”
“Yeah, well, whatever. I’ll put it to the vote during the next meeting.” He leaned back, one hand over his eyes like it hurt just to see the light. “So? Where were you?”
“Remember the waitress from the diner?”
“How could I forget? Tits and ass for days, brother.”
I held back the urge to knock him around for saying shit like that, since he didn’t know what went on between us. I wouldn’t have cared if he said it about Evie or Layla, though, and I had fucked the shit out of them, too. More than once. What did that mean?
“I was there.”
“At the diner?”
“No, at her apartment.”
Jax raised his hand, looking at me. “So, what, you’re seeing her now or something? Is she gonna be your new old lady?”
“Don’t go that far,” I said. “I’m not even seeing her. I was there to keep her and her kid safe.” I gave him the quick-and-dirty story, finishing with, “And that’s where you come in. Chase gave me the idea that if he’s such a crotch to his wife and probably all women, he’s probably that way all over the place. Including in his business.”
“So you think he’s probably doing some shady business?” he asked.
“What do you think? It’s likely, right?”
“I think it’s more than likely. I think he’s probably doing more than just giving people money for charity. He’s probably fucking with the books, laundering, doing all kinds of shady shit. I mean, you talk about them living in a big place, and he’s got all this money. At his age? I saw the guy leave the diner. He couldn’t be older than you.”
“That’s it, right? I thought that, too. Why’s he so successful, so young? What if he’s doing one of those, whaddya call ’em schemes?”
“A Ponzi scheme?” Jax snickered.
“Something like that. Maybe not that, exactly, but something like it. Like the way those assholes got rich right before the housing market collapsed. They collected high commissions off of shit loans. I’m sorry, but that’s the only way a person could all of a sudden get as rich as him. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.”
“Did Kara say anything about that?”
“No, just that he went from being a grad school student to having a ridiculous career in, like…” I did the math, “…three years.”
“That’s weird. Okay. I’ll look into him. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, though.”
“Anything. Find out the clients his firm handles, I guess. Find out what they’re all about. There has to be some sort of whispering going on somewhere. We’re near Flagstaff, but we’re not Flagstaff. We’re still a small town. Word gets around.”
“You’re right about that,” he said, smirking. “Like the way word gets around on us.”
“Well, right. That’s what I mean. People have to be talking about him, even if they’re bragging about how much money they make with his firm. I remember watching this thing on the news about that one guy, the one who’s in jail now…what’s his name…I don’t remember, but he ran one of those schemes. Some big shot they interviewed said his clients always bragged about how he made profits every quarter, every single time. And he said that’s impossible. There have to be losses sometimes, too. That should have been the first red flag. Who knows? Maybe there’s a red flag out there with Eric’s name on it.”
“And you think maybe his clients are talking about how great he is.”
“Right. That’s what’s gonna shoot him in the balls. I know it.” The more I talked about it, the better I felt about it. I was sure we would come up with something. It only made sense.
“I’ll get on it as soon as I don’t feel like I’m gonna die,” Jax said, slumping down on the leather couch.
“Don’t hurl on that thing, or Chase will kill you. Hell, I might kill you—that might be mine one day.” I left him there, going back out to the lounge to put on a pot of coffee behind the bar. By that time, Chase was coming downstairs with Trisha. He looked about as disgusted as I felt, and held his nose when the smell hit him.
“Oh, fuck me. What the hell happened?”
“Your club got a little outta hand, prez. That’s what happened.” I grinned at him.
“Shit, they’re not my club right now. I’ll take off the patch and hand it to you if it means getting to forget I ever saw this.”
I laughed, then deliberately slammed the door to the cooler to get everybody up.
“Come on. Up. Let’s go.” Chase nudged them—he wasn’t gentle, either. Spike almost fell off the pool table.
“What did you do that for?” he asked, holding a hand to his head as he got up. “What did I ever do to you?”
“I think you puked somewhere around here, that’s what. You’re always the one who ends up drinking until he pukes. You could never handle it.”
He shook his head. “I think it was Rat. He was the one doing shots, like, all night. I told him t
o slow down, skinny shit.”
“You’re probably right,” Chase said. He nudged an unconscious body under the pool table. One of the prospects. “Hey. Drake. Who the fuck told you that you could party last night? One, two drinks, minimum. I swear to Christ, I can’t go to bed with my old lady without shit going to hell around here.”
“I only had two drinks, Chase. Swear to God.” Drake stumbled to his feet, weaving back and forth. I turned my head so Chase wouldn’t see me laughing.