Through The Weeds (Nightshade MC Book 2)

by Shannon Flagg

  “Keep me safe? It's a bar, not a war zone.” It was Caroline's turn to frown. “You're going to need to explain that.”

  “He'll look out for you. That's all I meant.”

  “It sounds like more,” Caroline replied. “If you know something, you'd tell me, right?”

  “I don't know anything. It just can get rowdy at the bar. You'll be fine. I shouldn't have said that and freaked you out. I think I need to go to bed or something.” Jillian ran her hand through her hair. “We should go and get lunch tomorrow. There's a new Southern place that just opened up. I hear they've got amazing chicken and waffles.”

  “Perfect. Go on and get some rest. I'll see you in the morning.” Caroline watched her go and leaned back against the couch with a sigh. She shut her eyes and stayed there until she heard the unmistakable rumble of Buster's bike.

  Chapter Five

  Caroline was well on her way to drunk. Buster watched as she downed another shot of tequila with Amelia, and he shook his head. She'd been as stiff as a virgin in a whorehouse when they'd first entered. He could tell by her expression that she'd expected something different from what she found. She'd relaxed some. Now, she was completely relaxed.

  “I like her,” Train said. “And not just because she makes better chocolate chip cookies than my grandmother did. I really miss those fucking cookies. Hey, think she'd make me some if I asked her? I bet she'd make them if you asked her. You hitting that yet or what?”

  “Don't ask her to make you cookies, Train.” In not answering the question directly, Buster realized he'd actually answered it. Train laughed long and loud. Caroline looked away from Amelia, an amused smile on her lips.

  “Are we missing the joke, Train?” Amelia looked over her shoulder.

  “Wasn't talking to you. Was I?” Train replied.

  Buster was used to the animosity between Amelia and Train. They'd just taken an instant dislike to one another years back, though at times Buster suspected they enjoyed the back and forth banter. He realized that Caroline didn't know that and the fighting might make her uncomfortable. “Easy you two. You're going to make a bad impression on Caroline.”

  “Oh, I already know that these two can't stand each other.” Caroline took a sip of her beer. “They've been in Baked at the same time before. But did we miss a joke?”

  “No joke,” Train spoke up. “I was just telling Buster that your cookies are as good as my grandmother's, but you already knew that.”

  “I did,” Caroline confirmed.

  “I've had a real craving for them. It's a shame Baked isn't around anymore.” Train sighed dramatically. “I've been reduced to buying package cookies at the gas station. Hey,” he snapped his fingers at the hang-around behind the bar. “Get me another drink.”

  “I'll take one, too.” Caroline's words were definitely slurred now. One more drink might be one too many. “And I'll bake you cookies, Train. You've just got to ask nicely.”

  “How nicely do you want me to ask?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and then laughed. “Please, Caroline, bake me some cookies?”

  “Tomorrow. Well, tomorrow if I'm not too hung over. I might be too hungover, so don't get your hopes up. I need to pee.”

  “I'll show you the way.” Buster walked over to her, offered her his hand. As he suspected, her legs were a little wobbly. He slid his arm around her waist. “It's right over this way.” He took her to the small bathroom in the office. “It's a little small but clean. And there's no line.”

  “Will you wait for me?”

  “Sure. I'll be right here.” Buster told her. “I'll check the email really quick. We're waiting to hear from a couple of prospective clients.”

  “This is your office? It's pretty.... bare.”

  “Yeah, we're not exactly interior designers.” Buster looked around. They'd cleared the walls and repainted. Gotten rid of any trace of Royal. He sat down, checked the email, but there was nothing there. Caroline came out of the bathroom a moment later.

  She was smiling. It seemed like she never stopped smiling. Her eyes were out of focus and she almost tripped over her own feet. “Shit.” She sat down in the chair across from the desk. “Maybe I should have paced myself with the shots.”

  “Do you feel sick?”

  “No. I feel nice. I'm just realizing that I should probably take a break from the tequila, stick to water. I like your friends.”

  “I like them, too.” Buster smiled at the abrupt change in conversation and the way that she was twirling her hair around her finger over and over again.

  “I like you.” Caroline leaned forward in the chair. “And I think that I want to sleep with you.”

  “Right now?” Buster raised an eyebrow at her.

  “In a room without a lock on the door, during the middle of a party? No. Not right now. But soon, I think.”

  “Soon, huh?” Buster wouldn't have been more surprised if she'd stripped naked and started grinding on the chair.

  “Assuming that you want to sleep with me. And I'm assuming that you do because well, if you don't that's pretty embarrassing for me.”

  Buster rose to his feet. He was going to have to get her drunk more often. It seemed that she really opened up. “Well, there's no need to feel embarrassed, Caroline. I'd very much like to sleep with you.” He moved over to where she sat, held out his hand to her. “For right now, though, you could probably use a little bit of air.”

  As much as he wanted to sleep with her, he wasn't going to sleep with her unless he was one-thousand percent sure that it was her who wanted it, not the tequila. She gripped his hand and stood, her body close enough to him that he was sure she could feel just how much he wanted her. Buster had been hard since she'd made her announcement.

  “I can think of something else I could use a bit of.” She all but purred the words as she pressed against him. “I probably should have warned you, tequila makes me really horny. And naughty. Very naughty.”

  Buster bit back a groan as she slid her hand between them, ran her fingers along the bulge in his jeans. “I remember you mentioning something about a door that doesn't lock.”

  “Oh, yeah. Shit. Wait, we could put the chair underneath the doorknob and then me underneath you.” Her arms slid around his neck, her fingers moving into the back of his hair. “What do you think?”

  He thought that if she kept this up, he was going to end up blowing his load in his pants like a horny fucking teenager. Buster couldn't remember the last time that he'd waited so long to sleep with someone he wanted. Caroline's hands grew bolder. Her fingers fumbled with his belt buckle. “I think that you could use some air.” He stilled her hands.

  “Seriously?” She sighed and pulled her hands out of his. “You want this as much as I do. Don't deny it.”

  “Never said I didn't,” Buster replied. “I'd just much rather be sure that when we're together, you're all the way there.”

  “You think I'm going to what, change my mind?” Caroline asked.

  “Stranger things have happened. I just want to be sure. I want you to be sure.” Buster reached out and cupped her face with his hands. “Okay?”

  Before she could answer, the door swung open. Edge stepped in. “Sorry, Buster, but we've got a problem.”

  “What sort of problem?”

  “Manuel is here,” Edge replied. “Said that he needs to talk to you.”

  Buster groaned at the timing. “Send him back. Caroline, let Edge take you outside to get some air and I'll find you as soon as I'm done.” She opened her mouth, as if to protest, but in the end said nothing. She left with Edge, and moments later Manuel walked through the door.

  It was the first time that Buster could remember the leader of The Street Kings being in the Nightshade clubhouse. If there was a body in Royal's grave, it would be spinning. Buster found himself smiling at that. The visit was just a sign of how much times had changed for Nightshade.

  “Sorry to show up unannounced.” Manuel stepped into the room and closed the do
or. “But we need to talk. Our clubhouse was hit tonight.”

  “What?” Buster noticed the blood on the white tee shirt that Manuel wore beneath his cut. “Jesus Christ, what happened?”

  “It was a typical Friday night. We were celebrating. We gave out a few prospect cuts tonight. We're down in numbers, needed to boost them. Anyway, we're having a great fucking time and then the door opened. Four guys walked in and just started shooting. They were gone as fast as they came. We got one of them. They got four of us.”

  Buster didn't know what to say. What could he say? Losing four men at once, in the middle of your own territory during a celebration was something that sorry couldn't fix. “Is there anything that we can do?”

  “Tell me that you had nothing to do with it. Give me your word.”

  “You've got my word,” Buster replied. “And you've got Nightshade's help, if you want it, to find whoever did this.”

  Manuel nodded. “I think that we're going to have to take you up on that. We lost Hector, Nathan, Franklin, and one of the prospects, Lucy.”

  “You're taking on female prospects now?”

  Manuel smiled slightly at that. “No. It was just what we called him. He was a redhead, always getting himself into some scrape, even when he was just hanging around. But he had heart. He was funny as fuck. Been calling the other prospect Ethel.”

  Buster chuckled at that. “Were they even old enough to remember I Love Lucy?”

  “Not really.” Manuel turned and hit the wall. “He was a kid. Hector has three kids. Franklin was set to get married and Nathan was a grumpy old bastard, but he was ours.”

  Buster could only imagine the rage that the man was feeling. He tried to and just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach. He watched Manuel hit the wall several times, breaking through the sheet rock and bloodying his knuckles in the process.

  “I need to get back. I had to see your eyes when I asked you if Nightshade was involved. I meant no disrespect.” Manuel was a large and imposing man. Buster had never seen him look quite so small and deflated.

  “You need a hand with anything tonight?”

  “Got a doctor you can spare?” Manuel asked. “On a normal night, Hector's Old Lady does our patching up, but she's in no condition.”

  “I'll make a call.” Buster took out his phone, dialed the number he had for Jillian. It went straight to voice mail, so he tried again with the same result. “Shit. I'll keep trying her.”

  “I appreciate that.” Manuel extended his hand. “Thank you.”

  Buster knew that he wasn't just talking about the call, he was talking about the offer of help. If someone would have told him a year ago that there would not only be a truce between Nightshade and The Street Kings but also a trust, he'd have laughed. “Anything you need.”

  Outside the room, oblivious to the destruction that had struck The Street Kings, the party continued to rage. Buster walked Manuel out to his bike, came back inside and drew shouts of annoyance from the crowd when he returned inside and pulled the plug on the music. “Everyone out.”

  Everyone knew that everyone didn't mean everyone. It meant that it was time for the pass-arounds and hang-arounds to make themselves scarce. Buster saw Caroline near the bar; she looked confused. Shit, he'd actually forgotten all about her. He was on his way over to her when he saw Claire approach her.

  It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out Claire was trying to get her to leave. Of course she would be, Claire had stepped up into a role no one wanted, managing the girls. Caroline looked less than pleased, in fact she looked downright pissed. Buster crossed the room quickly. “She's fine, Claire. She's staying.”

  “Oh.” Claire looked surprised. “Sorry, Buster. I didn't mean any disrespect.”

  “Of course you didn't.” Buster smiled at her. “Thanks for helping clear the place out.”

  “What's going on?” Caroline asked when the other woman had left. “Something happened, right? I saw Manuel. He looked upset and he had blood on him.”

  “You know him from Baked?” Buster asked.

  “He comes in, or rather he used to, and his wife does, too.” She frowned. “It's bad, isn't it? I can get myself home if you need me to...”

  It was quicker to kiss her quiet than to explain what was going on, so that was exactly what he did. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her body into his. Buster broke the kiss with regret and reached down to grab her hands. “I'd like for you to stay, but I need your word that anything you hear here, stays here.”

  “Of course,” Caroline nodded.

  “What the hell is going on, Buster? I was just about to get my dick sucked, twice!” Train called out and laughter followed.

  “Your dick is going to have to wait.” Buster squeezed Caroline's hands and turned to face the crowd. “Tonight, someone attacked The Street Kings' clubhouse in the middle of a prospect party. They've got four dead and others hurt.” He paused, let the news sink in. “He came here to ask if it was us. And I told him the truth. It wasn't.”

  “Who was it?” Danny asked from where he sat with Amelia perched on his lap.

  “They don't know. They took down one of the shooters, he's dead and not talking.” Buster walked over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. “I told him to let us know anything he needs. And right now, they need someone to patch up their guys. I tried to get Jillian on the phone, but she didn't answer. Edge, go and get her and take her to their place.”

  “No can do, Buster.” Edge cleared his throat. “I talked to her earlier, she made it really clear that she's not in the business of helping us anymore.”

  “What's that about?” Buster demanded. Edge simply shrugged his shoulders. “Ace, you got any insight into Jillian's sudden change of heart?”

  “No. Fuck her if she doesn't want to help us, though,” Ace replied.

  “Hey, watch your mouth!” Edge shot to his feet. “Just because my sister doesn't want to fuck you doesn't give you the right to talk about her like that.” Ace got to his feet as well, but Train stepped between the two men.

  “We've got bigger fish to fry than whatever is going on with Jillian so cut this shit out,” Buster told them. “If the two of you want to duke it out, you can, but not now. I don't know what happened with Jillian, but someone needs to fix it. She's the closest thing we've got to a doctor. If someone went after Manuel's crew, they can come after us.”

  “They could,” Train admitted, “but more likely this is just someone that they pissed off looking for revenge.”

  “Even so, we need to keep our eyes open. Be smart.” Buster looked around. “We should also start thinking about taking on some prospects of our own.” He'd given the matter some thought, but Manuel mentioning it had brought it to the forefront of his mind. Under his rule, he didn't want Nightshade to just survive, he wanted them to thrive. “We'll talk about who to bring up at our next meeting.”

  “Can I ask something?” It was Caroline who spoke. Her expression suggested that she wasn't sure if someone was going to yell at her for speaking up.

  “Of course you can,” Amelia answered.

  “Who died from The Street Kings? Do you know?”

  “It was Hector, Franklin, Nathan and a prospect they were calling Lucy,” Buster replied.

  “Shit.” Ace shifted in his chair. “They were actually pretty good guys. I liked Nathan. He was a tough son of a bitch.”

  “They all were. They all had families and people who loved them, people who are going to miss them. Let's see if we can't help Manuel figure out who did this and stop the before anyone else gets hurt. Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink.”

  He wasn't alone in that. There was a rush to the bar. Buster walked over to where Caroline sat. As he got closer, he realized that she was crying. There were no sobs, just streaks of tears on her cheeks. She wiped them as she saw him coming.

  “I'm okay. It's just... I saw Hector just the other day. He was really a nice guy. Befor
e Wayne, I never knew anyone who was killed, and now they're just piling up on me.” She let out a shaky laugh. “And you've got bigger things to worry about than this.”

  “Come on.” Buster held out his hand to her. “Let's go outside. Get some air and some quiet.” She took his hand and rose to her feet. She was steadier, a lot steadier than she had been. Enough time had passed that she was starting to sober up. “This isn't exactly how I saw our evening ending.”

  “Me either,” she replied. “I thought my toes would be curled by now.”

  It took Buster a beat to realize what she meant. He laughed. “You really get sex on the mind when you drink tequila. I'm going to have to remember that.”

  “I'm sorry. Am I being obnoxious about it? I do that. I'll try and keep my mouth shut.”

  “Why in the world would you do that?” Buster opened the door and they stepped outside. It was warmer than he'd thought it would be. The air was heavy, as if it was about to start raining. “And you're far from obnoxious, Caroline. Far from it.”

  “I used to embarrass my ex. He said I got crass when I drank. I didn't drink much around him.”

  “Well, I can say with some certainty that he was an asshole.” Buster led her over to the bench in front of the bar, sat down and pulled her onto his lap. “I think it's really sexy.” She relaxed against him. Buster stroked his hand up and down her outer thigh. “Did you have fun tonight?”

  “I did.” She turned on his lap, nuzzled her face against his chest. “Did you?”

  “Yes.” There was no doubt in his mind about that. “I like spending time with you, but I think you've figured that out already.”

  “I had a little clue, well actually, it wasn't so little.” She shifted on his lap again.

  “You've really got a one track mind right now, huh?” Buster let his hand slide to her inner thigh. He felt her tense. “And don't you dare apologize for it. Maybe there's something I can do to help you out with that.”

  “Oh?” Caroline let him move her so that her back was against his chest. “Oh!” She hissed in a sharp breath as his hand slid beneath her shirt. She leaned back, arched her back as his fingers teased the bud of her nipple through the lace of her bra. “Buster, people can see!” She hissed the words even as her body moved softly against him.