Through The Weeds (Nightshade MC Book 2)

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Through The Weeds (Nightshade MC Book 2) Page 18

by Shannon Flagg


  “Jesus.”

  “I tried to go after them, but I was hit. Didn't realize it. Hell, I nearly bled out right there. Part of me wanted to. I hadn't kept my promise. I hadn't kept her safe. And now, I don't think that I can keep you safe.”

  “Buster, I feel safe with you.” Caroline felt an ache in her heart. She walked over to him, took his hands. “I love you, remember.”

  “I love you too.” He squeezed her hands tight. “And that's why I'm going to tell you it's okay if you want out of this.”

  “You're insulting me.” She ripped her hands from his. “I think I've been more than clear that I'm in this for the long haul, even if that's slightly crazy. It's a good crazy, and I love you. If you want out of this, grow a fucking pair and tell me. And now I am going to shower because I smell and I'm so fucking pissed at you right now, unless you've got something to tell me, like leave.”

  “Maybe you should start planning a trip to see your parents. You've said they've asked you to come visit.”

  “You're still being insulting,” Caroline pointed out. “So, I'm just going to take my shower.”

  “Does nothing I just told you bother you? I got a woman and my child killed, Caroline.”

  “Of course it bothers me. I'm sorry that you lost someone that you love and a child. I can't even imagine the pain you're in, but it doesn't make me see you differently. And you didn't get them killed, the guy who pulled the trigger got them killed. It's pretty cut and dried.”

  “Cut and dried?” He snorted out a laugh. “You are oddly fucking practical sometimes. You know that, right?”

  Caroline didn't hear any compliment in his tone, which pissed her off. She knew that he was carrying a lot of hurt and weight on his shoulders over what was going on. “It's better to be practical than go through life blind. I've done enough of that one lifetime.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  Caroline didn't know why they were practically yelling at one another. And she didn't want to fight. He'd told her the big secret in his past. It was time she returned the favor. “All my life, I had a best friend. Her name was Kim. We did everything together, even as we got older, or maybe especially as we got older. Everything including the man who'd asked me to marry him. In the end she got him. I got out of there.”

  “You never told me that before.”

  “Seemed like the time, since we're revealing secrets. Also seemed fitting, since my new best friend has gone over to the dark side. I don't want to spend the night going back and forth about it, Buster. Is that really what you wanted to come back here for? No. I think that you wanted to get some sleep in your bed, right?”

  “Right.”

  “So join me in the shower, or not, and then let's just go to bed and do that,” Caroline suggested.

  “Go on up. I'm just going to make sure the place is locked up tight.”

  “Suit yourself.” Caroline carried her bag up the stairs and found the bathroom on the first try. She could count the number of times she'd been in the house on one hand. Buster seemed almost uncomfortable to be here, which was why she'd been mildly surprised he wanted to come here now.

  Caroline stripped, turned the water on as hot as she could stand it, and washed the day away the best that she could. She kept it short, wrapped a towel around her hair and started to dig through her bag. She'd forgotten deodorant, she'd need to snag some from Buster in the morning, but she'd remembered her lotion and her hair brush.

  She'd just pulled out a pair of shorts when the bathroom door opened. Caroline looked over her shoulder at Buster. “Everything locked down tight?”

  “Everything is,” he confirmed. “You said something earlier, called Hanna the woman that I loved. She wasn't. I didn't love her. I liked her. Maybe I would have, eventually, but I didn't. I love you. The idea that I can't protect the things I love... you and Nightshade. It's... I'm not sure that I'm the right man to be wearing the patch. After the Royal shit, they need someone who isn't fucking everything up.”

  Caroline dropped her clothes back in the bag, took the towel off of her hair and wrapped it around her body. “Have you made mistakes? Sure, we all have. It's not the mistakes that define you, Buster. It's how you remedy them. So, how are you going to do that?”

  “Tomorrow, Nightshade is meeting with Joseph Miller for the last time. We're going to take him and his secondhand man out.” he replied.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what happened if they didn't manage to take them out, but she knew the answer. If Nightshade failed, this was likely the last night she'd spend with Buster. “Well, you definitely need a good night's sleep. I hope that you have air conditioning.”

  “There's a fan. It's not that hot outside,” he grumbled.

  “Well, it gets hot when we're all wrapped around each other. And I don't like being sweaty unless I'm doing something worthy of the sweat. And after the worthy sweating, I still like a nice cool room.” Caroline laughed as he reached out to tickle her.

  “Fine. I'll turn the damn air conditioner on, but you're going to work off the extra on the electric bill.” He grabbed the towel, tugged, and then it was off. “Maybe you should start right now.”

  “Oh? You got some idea of the payment that you'd like, or should I use my imagination?” Caroline felt heat pool between her legs. Her very naked legs, to go along with her very naked anything else, while he was fully dressed except for his boots. She should have felt exposed, maybe even a little embarrassed, but instead, it was getting her horny. She stopped walking, stepped in front of him.

  “Well, I like the way you think.” His eyes darkened as she dropped to her knees and began to work his belt. “You know that you don't have to...” His words trailed off, replaced by a groan as she stroked her fingers over his length. “Fuck.”

  Caroline chuckled, she couldn't help it. He said the same thing every single time, and her reaction, simply ignoring him, had been the same each time. Before she met Buster, she thought of oral sex almost as a chore. Ronald liked it, it took the edge off is what he used to say to her. She'd done it; it had never taken long. He'd just stood there.

  Buster was completely different. He was active. His hands were already in her hair. His fingers slid along her scalp and then his hands twisted in the strands. He held her, moved her up and down his length. And he said things. He said the dirtiest things when his dick was in her mouth, and Caroline loved it.

  She wasn't surprised when he pulled her off of him and then up to his mouth. He took full and immediate control of the kiss which she'd known he would. He pressed her to the wall, used his knee to push her legs open. Caroline braced herself, and then he was inside of her.

  “Oh.” Her nails dug into his shoulders as he lifted her so that he'd have better access to her body. His thrusts were hard and deep, even more than usual. It was almost as if he was thinking about what she'd realized earlier, this could be the last time.

  Caroline pushed the thought out of her head, pushed all thought out of her head as she felt her stomach tightening. All that mattered was this moment and them.

  <#<#<#<#

  “It's barely light out,” Caroline groaned as she felt Buster shake her shoulder gently.

  “Be that as it may,” his voice was a low rumble, “I've got a very busy day today, in case you've forgotten.”

  She hadn't forgotten, she was surprised that she'd been able to sleep at all, but it was hard to feel anything but safe and warm when wrapped in his arms. “I'm up. Do you want me to make coffee?”

  “I've already made it.” Buster pulled the covers back. “And I've even put some of those frozen waffles you like in the toaster.”

  “There better be peanut butter.” Caroline realized that she hadn't taken the effort to put any sort of clothes on after their adventures in the hall, the bedroom and the bathroom, when they'd been sweaty enough to need another shower.

  “There is. Grab some clothes, Caroline. I've got something I need to show you befo
re I leave for the bar.”

  Caroline nodded. She found clothes in the form of one of his tee shirts and walked downstairs. She smelled the coffee and the burned toaster waffles. “How you do you burn toaster waffles?”

  “It's an acquired skill. Sit down.” He motioned to the table. “I need you to sign those papers, right where the little post-it flags are.”

  Caroline sat down. She blinked several times and focused on the papers. “What the fuck is this? Buster. What?”

  “There's a lot of legal speak in there, but basically, it says that in the event of my death everything that I have becomes yours.”

  “I'm not signing this.”

  “Yes, you are.” He leaned over so that he was in her face. “Look at me.” Caroline met his eyes. “You're going to sign these because I need to know that if something happens, you'll be taken care of. Sign, Caroline.”

  She picked up the pen, signed her name. “Nothing better happen to you because I will find a way to bring you back from the dead and kick your ass if you let anything happen to you. Do you understand?” Caroline threw the pen across the table.

  “I have no doubt you'd want to, but if something happens to me, I want you out of Detroit as fast as possible. There's money here in the house, in a safe upstairs behind that landscape painting in the bathroom. You take that money and you go. My lawyer will sort out everything else.”

  “Fuck you. I can't sit here and plan your death, Buster. And you can't go out there and think that you're going to fucking die! You need to plan on living. So, I amend what I said I'd do if you get yourself killed, I won't bring you back from the dead. Instead, I'll just go and see if Jillian needs a sister wife.”

  “Don't even fucking joke about that, Caroline.”

  “Don't die. Seems pretty simple to me.” Caroline rose from the table and headed for the coffee. “Now, sit down and I'll make you a proper breakfast before you go off to battle. Oh, and there's one more thing, we forgot something last night.”

  “You can think of something that we didn't do last night?” Buster chuckled. “Pour me a cup of coffee, would you?”

  “We forgot the condom, Buster. Every single time.” Caroline hadn't realized it until she was in his arms, sleepy and satiated, and it didn't seem like the time to bring it up. She wasn't on the pill. The pill was expensive, and she was pretty poor and not very sexually active. “Do you want me to go and get the morning-after pill?”

  Caroline got uncomfortable during the pause that followed. He cleared his throat. “You don't need to do that, Caroline.”

  “I'm not one of those women who track their cycle down to the day, Buster. There's a chance that I'm pregnant.”

  “Actually, there's not. You can't be pregnant, because I can't get you pregnant. After everything that happened with Hanna, I had a procedure.”

  “You had a vasectomy?” Caroline overfilled the coffee cup. “And why are you just mentioning this now?”

  “It hasn't come up, has it? Besides, I got so used to using condoms, it was just second nature.” Buster looked down as his phone buzzed. “Fuck. I'm going to have to pass on breakfast. It's Danny. I've got to go.”

  “You should have told me that you had a vasectomy, Buster. It's kind of an important detail.”

  “We can either argue for the next sixty seconds or you can come over here and give me a kiss for luck. It's your choice.”

  Caroline chose the kiss. She chose him and watched him go with a sharp stab to her heart. He didn't look back, and she didn't stop watching until he was well out of sight. Now she'd sit and she'd wait for the phone to ring.

  The phone didn't ring, and eventually she couldn't sit anymore. She explored the house, checked out the back yard and was delighted to see that Buster had been telling the truth about the tree pumpkins. Caroline hoped she'd get a chance to take a shot at them with a bow and arrow. It was that thought that got her wondering if it was even safe for her to be outside.

  She made herself tea, marveled over the fact that Buster owned a plug-in tea kettle and flipped through channels on the television for what seemed like an eternity, but the phone still didn't ring. Caroline eventually ended up falling asleep on the couch. A loud knock on the door woke her. Her heart continued to race as she walked over to the door. Detective Harris was on the other side. For a moment, Caroline considered not answering but curiosity won out. “Can I help you?” She only opened the door only as far as the chain lock would allow.

  “I need you to come with me, to the morgue. I need you to identify a body.” Harris looked like she was having a shitty day. Caroline would have smirked if she could have done anything but clench the door knob tightly in her hand. Silence stretched between them. “It's not Buster.”

  “Then why are you asking me?”

  “Because I want you to see the cost of the life that you've chosen,” Harris replied. “You can come with me willingly, or I can haul you in on all those old parking tickets. It's your call. You come with me willingly, and you can leave whenever you want. I bring you in on the tickets, you're sitting in a cell until you make bail. With the things I'm hearing, you don't want to be stuck in a cell.”

  “What things?”

  “Things like all of Nightshade has a target on them, women and children included, though you could make the argument that Nightshade children have never been safe. Think of Taylor Mason, or maybe I should say Taylor Davenport. Either way...” Harris trailed off and shrugged her shoulders. “So, what's it going to be? I don't have all day.”

  Caroline didn't want to be stuck in a cell. “Fine. I'll go with you. Let me get my shit.” She took pleasure when the door slammed before Harris could protest. Fuck that bitch. Someone was dead. It wasn't Buster, and suddenly she knew who it was. It was going to be Jillian.

  Her best friend. Her only friend. It wasn't easy to stay on her feet, to think, but she managed to grab her purse. She left a note on the coffee table, underneath the remote, where she hoped that it couldn't be missed.

  Finally, she opened the door and stepped out. She locked the door. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

  <#<#<#<#

  It wasn't Jillian on the table. It was Rock. Sweet Rock who was still amused by cartoons and who liked to drink milk straight out of the carton. He had been stripped of his clothes, covered with a sheet. There had been a second sheet folded and draped over his face, but Harris was quick to remove it, even though the attendant glared at her.

  He'd been shot in the head, more specifically almost dead center in his forehead. “See how the entrance wound is relatively small?” Harris spoke in the same tone a teacher would use. “Now, step around here so you can see the back better.”

  “No thanks. I'm good.”

  “Get out.” Harris snapped at the attendant. The man hesitated, but, eventually, he left. “Step around here or I'll drag you by your pretty fucking hair. You might like that, though, right?”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Caroline demanded.

  “The surveillance on Nightshade never stopped, Caroline. We just got smarter about it.” Harris chuckled. “Got to give you credit where credit is due, I never thought that Buster would make some bitch he got off on a bench his old lady.”

  “If you shut the fuck up, I'll look.” Caroline regretted her words immediately. Only the base of Rock's skull was relatively intact, the back had been blown out. “You are one sick bitch. I really think that you need professional help.”

  “I could say the same to you.” Harris smiled. She'd never stopped smiling. “Now, if you've got a minute. I have a few questions.”

  “Go. Fuck. Yourself.” Caroline flipped her middle finger up at the woman. She had her phone out before she could reach the door. There was only one person she could think to call, and Ryan answered on the third ring, slightly out of breath. “Hey. It's Caroline. Can you pick me up at the police station?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The plan had been simple. Simple enough that it seemed to
be genius to Buster. They'd simply walk into Miller's place, armed as they always were, and turn the tables on the man. He should have known better, should have known that simple had no place in their lives.

  For all of the meetings with Miller, at least since Mark's death, had just been Miller and Smoke, but when they walked into the abandoned church, there were three other men they'd never seen before. Three big, burly men who made no attempt to hide the fact that they were armed to the teeth.

  Yeah, this was all going to hell and fast. Buster looked over to Train, who nodded at him. He realized it, too. All of Nightshade did. The tension in the room deepened with every passing beat of silence as both groups tried to figure out who was going to make the first move.

  Joseph Miller spoke first, with a laugh. “I know that you've all come here to try to kill me. In case you were confused, try would be the operative word in that sentence.”

  “If you didn't think we could kill you, you wouldn't have brought in more men,” Buster replied. It wasn't going to be as simple, but it was still possible for them to come out on top. “And yeah, we came here to end this. To end you.”

  Everyone listened. No one spoke, moved or maybe even breathed. Buster was on alert, at the ready to pull his gun. He looked over to see Train's wide grin, the man had something up his sleeve, and Buster was pretty sure that he had at least a grenade or two with him. Nightshade was there in full force. If they all went down, the club would go with them.

  “Why today?” Joseph asked. “Why now?”

  “Why not?” Buster shrugged his shoulders. “Seemed as good a day as any.”

  Joseph laughed. It was a chilling sound. “I think that's a lie. I think that you're here because you think killing me will somehow help your impending war with The Wild Cards. It's actually not a half bad idea, but you see, I spoke with Jake Dodd this morning, and he gave me great incentive to put you down like a rabid dog.”

 

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