by Geri Glenn
So that’s why I find myself now, sitting in my little car, outside of a dingy bar in a rough neighborhood, waiting for Shiv to come back outside. He’d gone inside over an hour ago. I’m exhausted today, which seems to be my new normal state, and am just debating on heading home when he steps outside the bar.
He’s alone, as usual. Come to think of it, he’s always alone. Shiv doesn’t seem to have many friends, if any. Contacts, yes. Customers, for sure. But nobody that chooses to spend time with him for any other reason than to get a fix.
I sit up straight, expecting him to walk toward his car, but he doesn’t. Instead, his head swings in one direction, then the next, looking for only God knows what before crossing the street. How had I not noticed that car there? Had they noticed me?
The interior of the car lights up when he opens the door, and in the driver’s seat sits Constable Belanger. The door closes and the lights go out. I knew it! I fucking knew there was a connection between those two. But why?
I’m a good spy, but I’m no detective. Especially when I don’t have all the facts, and I don’t in this case. The connection these two have to the Kings is obvious, but the Kings don’t share their business with me. I have no clue what’s going on.
Pulling out my phone, I pull up Ryker’s contact info and dial his number. It rings only once before he picks up.
“Yeah?”
“Ryker, it’s Anna.”
“Got call display, woman. What do you need?”
I roll my eyes. Always so brisk. “I’m sitting in my car outside The Lamplighter Tavern and Shiv just walked out. You’ll never guess whose car he just jumped into.”
“Not into guessing games, Anna. Who? And what the fuck are you doin’ at the Lamplighter?”
I huff out a sigh. “Don’t worry about that, but the answer is Constable Belanger. Shiv just walked outside, crossed the road and got in the passenger seat of Belanger’s car.”
Silence meets me from the other end, then, “Jesus.”
“I don’t know what’s going on here, Ryker, but the two are connected somehow. I knew it in my gut, and now I see it with my own two eyes.”
“Son of a bitch,” he growls. “Okay. Thanks, babe. Now get the fuck out of there and do not be seen. I don’t know what’s gotten into that head of yours, but this shit is too fuckin’ dangerous for you to be playin’ private investigator.”
I finish up the phone call with my bossy brother-in-law and watch the dark car from my place a few spaces back. Nothing happens, of course, but my heart pounds with adrenaline. Five minutes later, Shiv climbs out of the car, crosses the road and climbs into his own beater. Belanger takes off, and Shiv pulls onto the street, heading in the opposite direction.
I guess that means nobody saw me. I take a second to calm my racing heart, then head for home and the comfort of my own bed.
Reaper
Ryker’s phone call last night had been an unwanted interruption to my impromptu road trip. For the last month, I’d done absolutely nothing, other than drop off a package to the WinnipegChapter. Other than that, I drove. I’ve been all over Canada, spending most of my time camping out and riding through the Rocky Mountains, just clearing my head. It had been nice, but I didn’t feel any less pissed off.
Luckily, when he’d called, I’d been close enough to make the drive home in just a few hours. Whether I wanted to or not, Ryker had summoned me back, and it was time to get back to my life.
I walk into the clubhouse and am greeted by cheers, backslaps, and drinks thrust in my hand. I take the first one I see and down it, heading straight for Ryker’s office at the back of the clubhouse.
I knock on the door and wait. “It’s open,” he calls, his voice telling me plenty about how pissed off he is at the moment.
I step inside and find him alone, pouring over sheets of paperwork. A step closer tells me that they’re legal documents from the case file that son of a bitch Belanger has on us. “Where’d you get those?”
Ryker tosses a stack on the table. “Having a friend of the club on the police force has its perks,” he says, referring to Daniel Lawson, Tease’s future brother-in-law.
I take a seat and grab a stack with my name on it. “Didn’t know Lawson had it in him.” Lawson’s a good guy, for a cop, but he’s as straightlaced as they come. Pilfering confidential police files and giving them to the club is against more laws than I can count.
“Belanger’s a dirty fuck and Lawson knows it. He’s in it to get the bad guy, and for once, that isn’t us.”
I flip through my file and smirk at what I see there. So many priors that if they added much more, I’d need a second folder. It’s a miracle I’ve never done hard time in jail. Just a few days here and there in lockup is all I’ve ever served, and that was more than enough for me. I value my freedom.
But it’s the current additions that make me pause. “This bastard’s been following us for a long fuckin’ time.”
“Months,” Ryker says with a nod. “Started about a week after Tiny met his match.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, marvelling over the minimal amount of intel Belanger had gained, and how many man-hours were spent tailing me and the others. “Last night you mentioned Shiv being involved. What’s the deal there?”
Ryker smirks. “Seems our girl Anna likes to pretend to be a real P.I.”
Anna. Just her name has my insides twisted with guilt at abandoning her, and frustration that I even feel that guilt. I can’t get tangled up in her drama when I’m still sorting through my own. I don’t know that I ever can.
“Apparently, she’s been following Shiv on her days off, and last night, she finally proved her theory. Shiv was meeting with Belanger.”
Fucking Anna. What the hell was she thinking, following that psycho around on her own like that? My head may be all messed up when it comes to her and relationships in general, but Shiv and Belanger are both bad news. I could ring her skinny neck for putting herself in danger like that.
Ryker’s eyes are assessing, and though he’d never ask me, I know he’s wondering how I’m taking that news. News that Anna did something so monumentally fucking stupid, and helpful. So, I give him nothing. “I’ll call Cam. He can come check out these files, see if it helps him uncover anything new.”
“Sounds good,” he says, stacking the papers back up on his desk. “Lawson needs these back by tomorrow so tell him to make it quick.” With a nod, I stand and head toward the door. “You get your shit sorted while you were away?” he asks, just as my hand grips the doorknob.
“Not even a little bit,” I answer. With that, I walk out of the office and through the main room of the clubhouse, ignoring the others as they attempt to make conversation.
All I want right now is to get to my house, call Cam and have a shower. Then I think I could sleep for five days straight, but I know that can’t happen. Shit is about to hit the fan with our club, and I don’t know if we’re going to be able to come out of this one intact.
Anna
I stare down at the little plastic stick. It hasn’t even been a minute yet, and those two pink lines are practically blinding me. Pregnant. My heart sinks. It’s stupid, really. Reaper and I had fucked up big time by going ungloved, but I’d been sure it wouldn’t matter. My period had just ended, and it wasn’t technically my fertile time. I’m not stupid. I know when a woman is most fertile and when she’s not. Lucky me, I’m just extra fertile apparently.
Can I do this? Like, really do this? I mean, I’m old enough. Thirty-two years old is plenty old enough to become a parent, but I don’t even have my act together yet. I’m still struggling with my addiction on an almost daily basis. I live in my sister’s spare bedroom, and I just started school. Not to mention the fact that the father of this child doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me.
That brings me to a whole other issue. How the hell do I tell Reaper about this baby? He’s told me the history of him and Laurie. I saw the look on his face when she walked into that funeral
home, her belly swollen with a child that wasn’t his. I know he doesn’t want children with her anymore, but seeing that she didn’t abort this one, when he’d wanted the one they’d made together so badly, had to have stung like hell.
Reaper’s a good guy, though. I know he’d make a damn good father. He would protect his child with a ferocity that most children never have. Reaper knows how to love, whether he’d admit it or not. The way he treated me in our brief time together proved that.
“Ugh,” I groan. Wrapping the test up in toilet paper to hide the evidence, I drop it in the small trash can in the bathroom.
My mind swirls with all the possible outcomes of this unexpected pregnancy. Visions of myself rocking a precious little dark-haired baby. Reaper turning his back on me and our child. Me struggling with my addiction and failing, becoming the worst mother to walk the face of the earth.
Taking a deep breath, I splash some cool water on my face at the sink and pat it dry with the towel hanging on the hook. With purpose, I turn and march out of the bathroom, heading straight for my bedroom, ready to start writing out a plan of some sort. I do that a lot, write shit down. Like, everything. I rarely follow my plan, but writing it all down helps me work things out in my head.
“Anna,” Ryker says as I walk past the kitchen. I nearly jump out of my skin. I didn’t even hear him come home, which is a miracle considering he drives the loudest motorcycle known to man. I must have been completely lost in my own shitstorm. “Need a word.”
My pulse thumps loudly as I step into the kitchen. Does he know? No. That’s ridiculous. Nobody knows. “What’s up?”
His face is serious as he stares back at me. He doesn’t look angry, exactly, just very serious. “I need you to promise me you’ll stop followin’ that scumbag around. It isn’t safe.”
“Okay,” I say quickly, knowing damn well that he’s right, and wanting the conversation to be over so I can go into my room and commence freaking out about the bombshell that was just dropped into my life.
Ryker arches a brow. “Okay?” he drawls. “That’s it? No arguing? Just, okay?”
I nod and force what I hope looks like a smile. “Yep. Okay. You’re right. It’s not safe, and I’ve managed to connect Shiv to that dirty cop now, so I’m done.”
His eyes search mine, appraising me, and he finally nods. “Good.” With a tight smile, I turn and head back in the direction of my bedroom. “Reaper came home earlier today,” he calls, just before I make it out the door. I freeze, unsure how I feel about that. “Thought you’d want to know.”
I nod, glad to be facing away from him so he can’t see the tears threatening to fall. When I reach my room, I close the door softly and flop down on my bed. My feelings are jumbled up and I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to decide which one I’ll go with. I’m glad that he’s home, pissed he hasn’t called, hurt that he left in the first place, and relieved that he’s safe. Too many emotions for one already emotionally frazzled woman.
Flicking off the lights, I crawl into my bed and nestle into the pillow. I need sleep. Maybe my dream life will turn out better than my actual life is shaping up to be.
Reaper
I’ve barely planted my ass on the seat of my Harley the next morning when the cop car pulls up across the end of my driveway, lights whirling. I narrow my eyes and watch as that douchebag Belanger folds himself out of the vehicle and sets off in my direction, his hand on the butt of his weapon.
“Please turn off the engine, Mr. Landry,” he shouts over the sound of the idling motorcycle.
Jesus Christ. What the fuck now? I reach up and turn the key, the air around us plunging into silence. “Was I speeding, Officer?” I ask with a sarcastic smirk.
He lets out a humourless chuckle and stands with his feet apart, hand still on his piece. “No, not speeding. I just have a few questions for you on this fine morning.” His own smirk is vicious and full of loathing. Such a prick. “I couldn’t help but notice that you disappeared for a while. You go on a little vacation?”
So that’s what this is about. I shrug. “You could say that.”
“What do you say?”
“I say wherever I go is none of your goddamn business.”
He cocks a brow. “Well, I say it is. We’re in the middle of an investigation, Landry. You disappearing in the middle of it seems awfully suspicious.”
I scoff. “Your investigation is a fuckin’ joke and you know it. I have no reason to answer to you, and I don’t intend to either, so if you don’t mind, get your piece of shit car out of my way so I can get to work.”
“Is that what you biker trash call it now? Work?” He chuckles softly. “That’s a new one.” My jaw hardens, and I have to remind myself that it wouldn’t do me any good to pound this fuck into the ground, even if it would be mentally rewarding. “You go,” he says. “Go to work. I’ll be seeing you, though, Landry. I’ll be seeing everything.”
He turns and walks back toward his car, and I know he’s planning on following me. The nice thing about a motorcycle is, roads and driveways aren’t always necessary. Before he even makes it off the paved drive to his car, I gun the engine and zoom by him, hitting the street on a skid and taking off down the quiet residential road.
I see Belanger through the rearview mirror, running to his car. Stupid fucker. Catch me now. He hasn’t even gotten into the driver’s seat before I turn and am out of sight.
Cam had nothing of use to us last night when I’d called, which is surprising because if you have any skeletons in your closet, Cam will find them. How can this dirty cop be so fucking clean? It doesn’t make sense. None of this shit makes sense.
I pull down a side street, then make another turn. I know I’ve lost him when he goes zooming by two blocks down, the cherry red of his brake lights never coming on. What a douche.
I make my way to the clubhouse, keeping a constant eye on the road behind me, watching for a tail, but it never comes. But when I get to base, there he is, calm, cool and confident, arms folded, ass resting against the hood of his car. He gives me a two-finger salute as I pass. I return the salute using only one.
Ryker meets me outside the building as I park my motorcycle in the long line of rides, his eyes narrowed on Belanger out on the street. “You have a visitor,” he says, tearing his gaze from the cop and pointing at a man in a suit, leaning against the brick wall on the other side of the lot. He looks uncomfortable and out of place amongst the grease covered and tattooed bikers coming and going from the garage part of the compound.
“Who the fuck’s that?”
Ryker chuckles. “Let’s just say you have a common enemy.”
I turn and walk toward the man, still not able to place his face as it becomes clearer. He pushes away from his place on the wall and walks toward me, his hand extended. “Lucas Landry? Michael Lancaster.”
I grip his hand, giving it a firm shake, but I don’t say anything. I have no clue what this man wants with me. As far as I’m concerned, as soon as Sharon’s estate is settled, Laurie Welland is ancient fucking history. Unfortunately, as the executor of her will, I at least have to do that much, but luckily, Sharon’s lawyer deals with her on my behalf.
He glances around at the others, then back to me. “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.” I just nod and watch as he shifts uncomfortably. “I just wanted you to know that Laurie had her baby.”
Jesus. “You think I give a fuck about that bitch?” Anger boils up from deep within my belly. Anger at Laurie, and anger at this fuck for bringing her back into my mind at all. I’d gone at least two weeks without thinking of her, and here he is to remind me.
“I think you did once,” he says quietly. “And I thought you’d like to know. I also thought you’d like to know why I kicked her out in the state she was in.”
“That’s your story, man. I don’t need to hear it.” I turn to walk away.
“She lied to me,” he blurts out, and I freeze. “She lied about everything. She lied about lov
ing me. She lied about you and she lied about her family. She told me her parents were terrible people. She told me you had beaten her and she barely escaped with her life. She told me she wanted to marry me because she loved me, and then I caught her fucking my gardener in my bed.”
“Christ,” I mutter, turning back to the other man Laurie had fucked over. “You know for sure it’s not your baby?”
He nods. “I do. We had a preterm paternity test done, and if that didn’t prove it, the fact that the baby came out with dark skin certainly did. I don’t know whose baby that is, but it certainly isn’t mine.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He sighs and shrugs with a sad smile on his face. “I guess I just wanted you to know I get it, you know? She sucks you in with her gorgeous smile and her sweet words, but the woman is a black widow in disguise. She’s selfish and vain, and she doesn’t ever care who she hurts in the process of getting what she wants.”
His words wash over me and give me the most unexpected sense of peace. I guess part of me had always wondered what I’d done wrong, why Laurie couldn’t love me like I’d loved her. Why she’d hated me so much that she killed my unborn child. But it wasn’t me. It was her. All along, it was her.
Anna
“Okay, Anna, this is going to be a little cold.” The ultrasound technician squirts the blue gel onto my skin and she’s right, it is cold, but I have to pee so bad, I just want to get on with the show.
It’s insane the amount of water they instruct you to drink before an ultrasound. My already overactive bladder has been screaming at me for the last thirty minutes, and mostly, that’s all I can think about. That is, until she puts the little handheld wand onto my belly and moves it around a bit.
It only takes her a minute to find it, but when the image of my growing baby appears on the screen, all thoughts of washrooms and running water disappears. All I have room for is that tiny little peanut shape and the flickering of its fluttering heartbeat.