Whiskey Neat (The Uncertain Saints MC Book 1)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “No, it’s perfect,” Griffin declared, leaning back to rub his taut belly.

  My eyes followed his movements, and I wanted to scream at the injustice.

  The man was in tip-top shape.

  One plate of cobbler wasn’t going to hurt him in the slightest.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if he worked out longer today because of it, too.

  “Thank you, Griffin. Remy, why can’t you ever say anything nice like that?” My mother teased.

  “Because I’m not a kiss ass,” Remy muttered under his breath.

  Apparently the two men still had some hostility to work out.

  “Actually,” he said. “My mother’s a state champion cobbler maker in Arkansas. I’ve tasted so many cobblers that I couldn’t even begin to tell you a number, and this one was close to perfect.”

  My mother’s eyes lit up.

  “Really? Who is your mother?” My mother asked, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

  “Rayleigh Deen,” he answered.

  My mother gasped.

  “Your mother is not Rayleigh Deen!” My mother squealed. “Oh, my God! This is her recipe!”

  Griffin grinned.

  My eyes widened.

  Griffin’s mother was somewhat of a famous celebrity, kind of like Wolfgang Puck and Emeril.

  We’d never been without her cookbooks in my mother’s house, and I currently had three of them in my own cabinet not five feet away.

  “Holy shit!” Remy exclaimed. “My mother watches her cooking show every Sunday.”

  Griffin shrugged. “Reruns. She hasn’t filmed anything new for six months or so.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  I regretted the question the moment the words were out of my mouth.

  “Because of Tanner,” he said softly, pushing away from the counter and standing to his full height. “I’ve actually got to go. Duty calls.”

  And before any of us could say another word, he was gone, and we were left in silence that he left behind.

  “What happened?” Maddison asked softly.

  My heart wanted to cry out for him.

  “Tanner was his son. He died in a drive by shooting about six months ago,” I said softly, staring at the door like I could will him to come back.

  “Oh, that poor man,” my mother said softly.

  “Shit,” Remy said. “That just sucks.”

  “Is he the one that was killed at his school?” Maddison asked, looking at me.

  I nodded. “Yeah, baby. I think that’s him. Although he hasn’t given me many details on how he was killed yet. And I’m too scared to ask him.”

  “If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you,” Remy said, sounding so positive about his statement that I wanted to believe him.

  I looked up at him, remembering the advice Griffin had given me this morning about how I shouldn’t tell him about Jenna, and smiled at him sadly.

  The two men in my life had some serious problems.

  And I hated that for them.

  “Maybe you should go to his work and check to make sure he’s alright,” Macynn suggested.

  I smiled sadly at her.

  “I don’t know where he works, baby doll. I’ll be sure to ask him for next time I upset him, though,” I teased.

  She grinned at me.

  “You plan on upsetting him a lot?” She asked.

  I shrugged. “I’m only human, baby, and I have a smart mouth. I’m sure it’ll happen quite a bit.”

  But a question did linger through my mind as I went about my day.

  Would he run every time I pissed him off or he got upset?

  Which led to another question.

  Could I live with that?

  Chapter 8

  The chains on my mood swing just snapped.

  -Bumper Sticker

  Griffin

  “What do you mean?” I asked, leaning across my desk that was situated in the middle of my office.

  He nodded to the papers in front of me and I scanned them.

  I gathered in a matter of moments the enormity of what I was reading.

  “This bill’s effectively repealing the ‘in plain view’ law,” I said in surprise.

  What the fuck was that about?

  When a police officer was conducting a routine procedure, like pulling a car over, he could use the ‘in plain view’ law to search the vehicle without getting a warrant issued first in certain circumstances.

  Like if a police officer saw something, say a bag that resembled a baggie of weed on the front seat of a car during a regular traffic stop, he could legally search the entire car because he saw something suspicious ‘in plain view’ that justified further inspection.

  And if during that search he found a stash of illegal guns in your trunk, well, that basically was on you since it was your own stupidity for leaving a bag of weed out in plain view.

  “Motherfucker…” I said, shaking my head. “And Justin’s backing this bullshit?”

  “Yep. After his assault in January, six months before Tanner’s death, he’d said in his statement to the police that a man had assaulted him because he refused to back the proposed law. Then two days later, he recanted the entire statement saying he was mistaken,” he said. “Which got me to thinking. What high profile court case would make a difference to this right now,” he said, tossing a file folder on the table. “And I found this.”

  “So, let me get this straight, with the repeal of ‘in plain view,” I gathered from what I was reading, “This entire case would have to be dropped since without the law the search that was conducted and the evidence that was found was not done so legally,” I finished incredulously.

  Wolf nodded.

  “That should have never passed,” I seethed.

  Wolf nodded his head in agreement. “It had a lot of backing, though, from democrats and republicans alike. It was expected to pass in the senate, and it did. It’s now in the house.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “You are shittin’ me,” I seethed.

  Wolf shook his head. “Not even a little bit,” he snipped back sarcastically.

  “And how exactly does that fucker play into all of this?” I asked, my head starting to pound.

  “When it was first proposed, Justin wasn’t going to back it. I’m thinking that, at least at first, it seems like he might have refused,” Wolf carefully explained. “Then from what I can gather, something changed, and he’s on record as a backer of it. I guess they found a way to force him to back it.”

  I knew what he was getting at.

  They forced him to back it by offing his stepson – my son.

  And he had. He totally caved in to them.

  “What are you doing?” Wolf asked.

  “Going to visit my ex-wife,” I growled in frustration, pushing out the front door of our shared office and heading straight to my bike.

  I felt my phone vibrate against my thigh, where it was tucked into my pocket, with an incoming text message.

  I didn’t bother to look at it.

  It was Lenore.

  She’d asked if I was okay three times now.

  I’d been too much of a coward to tell her that it hurt.

  It hurt every single day.

  It hurt even worse at night when my mind wasn’t occupied and I had no distractions.

  There was just no way I’d be able to talk about it, though, not when I knew she’d be her gentle and sympathetic self, she wouldn’t be able to hide the worry in her eyes, and she’d want to ask me what I was feeling.

  I’d told her just about all that I was willing to tell her.

  She didn’t need to know what position my son’s body was in when he’d died.

  The way his backpack, the Iron Man one he’d been so proud of when we bought it together, had fallen to cover his face.

  She didn’t need to know how he’d crawled about a foot and a half to
wards the teacher who’d also been shot and killed.

  How when I arrived on scene, I’d promptly fallen to my knees at the sight of my little boy in a pool of his own blood right there in the school’s parking lot.

  She definitely didn’t need to know that I’d gone home afterwards, held a gun in my hand, and contemplated my life. Contemplated what it would be without my boy in it. Contemplated whether or not I should use that gun on myself to go join him.

  I’d been so weak that night.

  And when I’d woken up the next morning, after drinking myself into a dreamless, passed out stupor, I realized that I had more life left in me, at least enough to make sure I took down all those involved in my son’s murder, anyway.

  Lenore wasn’t a part of that plan.

  But the moment she introduced herself as Lenore, and I’d looked into her innocent eyes, then learned that her middle name was Lane, I knew I couldn’t deny my feelings for her.

  Not when she shared the same middle name with my boy.

  Not when I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Not when I couldn’t sleep without waking up, wishing she was next to me.

  I just hoped she’d be able to get over the fact that I couldn’t talk about Tanner.

  Not yet, anyway.

  It was still too raw, the wound in my heart.

  It felt like I’d been shot.

  The pain was a dull ache that reminded me every single second that Tanner was no longer on this earth with me.

  Would never grow up to go to college.

  Would never see his wife walk down the aisle towards him.

  Would never hold his child in his arms and realize that his whole life was in the palm of his hands.

  The ride to my ex-wife’s place was uneventful, and I took the long way, which took me over two hours out of my way

  The wind was freeing to me.

  Three hours of uninterrupted therapy that I desperately needed.

  It helped me clear my head enough to allow me to think about what would need to be done once I reached Noreen’s place.

  Hopefully Justin was there.

  It was the weekend, after all.

  Noreen and Justin were quite frankly the busiest people in Texas, though.

  She was so busy now that she was the wife of ‘Senator Hayes’ that it was unlikely they ever had time for him.

  He was my boy, my mini me.

  They only ever wanted him for the photo ops.

  One good thing had come out of her marrying Hayes, though. That being that Tanner and I got even closer than we’d been before, he became more mine than hers.

  I loved having him with me.

  It was challenging with such a demanding job, sure, but I’d give my life to have that again.

  To have him wake up in the morning and ask for candy instead of cereal.

  To have him refuse to go to bed, begging me for just one more show.

  Pestering me relentlessly to watch Shark Week.

  I’d cried last week when I saw a Shark Week teaser on TV.

  This would be the first time in four years that I wouldn’t watch it twenty-four seven for a solid week.

  I arrived at Noreen’s gates at the front of their estate almost before I was ready.

  I hadn’t seen her since Tanner’s funeral.

  I couldn’t deal with her shit on a good day, and I really didn’t want to deal with it today.

  But I needed answers.

  Answers that would only come if I asked the questions.

  Turning the bike off, I pressed the intercom button and waited for the butler, or whatever the hell he was, to answer.

  It didn’t take long.

  He was always prompt.

  “May I help you?” Broderick asked coolly.

  “Yo’ Brody. Can you let Noreen know I’m here and would like to speak with her?” I asked him.

  Broderick’s tone audibly changed within moments of hearing my voice. “Certainly, please pull around.”

  I did as told, starting my bike and pulling it into the visitor’s drive that led to the front steps of Noreen’s swanky home.

  Broderick opened the door as I was getting off my bike.

  I grinned at him and offered him my hand.

  “Hey, man. How’s it going?” I asked.

  Broderick smiled at me, but I could see the same grief in his eyes that I saw in mine.

  Broderick and Tanner had been thick as thieves.

  Broderick had been the one watching Tanner the majority of the time that he was here, and he loved Tanner like I did.

  Like a son.

  And he was grieving, just like I was.

  One just didn’t wake up and get over this kind of pain.

  It was the kind of pain that wrapped around your heart, squeezing it so hard that you could barely breathe whenever you thought about it.

  And I could tell we were both thinking the same thing in that moment.

  That we missed Tanner.

  That we’d give anything to have him in between us like it used to be when I’d come over to pick him up or drop him off.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Hayes are to be leaving shortly,” he looked over his shoulder. “They’re going to a social function.”

  His voice held anger.

  Anger was something I was used to.

  I’d harbored my anger, weaving it around me like a web of protection in hopes that it would get me through the day.

  Most of the time it worked…but sometimes it didn’t.

  “I won’t be long,” I said, offering him my hand.

  He took it, nodding.

  “They’re in the front room,” he said, squeezing my hand in commiseration before I walked past him.

  My heart ached when I stepped inside and didn’t’ see my boy barreling toward me.

  Something that had happened every time I entered this house without him.

  He’d run to me, a huge smile on his face, as he screamed that he’d missed me.

  “What are you doing here, Griff?” Noreen asked.

  I ran my hand through my hair, letting it settle on the back of my neck, while I contemplated my shoes and got my thoughts in order to reply to her question.

  “I need to talk to you and your husband,” I said.

  Her eyes narrowed. “We’re to be at a function in about an hour.”

  I could tell.

  She was wearing a black cocktail dress that made her look like an uppity bitch from New York instead of a senator’s wife.

  “I don’t really care what you have to do,” I said, passing her to enter the sitting room where they always received their guests. “I need to talk to you today. Right now to be specific.”

  Noreen huffed in annoyance as I dismissed her without another word.

  Justin didn’t look any more pleased at seeing me.

  “What are you doing here?” He asked.

  I walked to the stuffy bar in the back of the room and poured myself a shot of whiskey and downing it before I turned back to Justin.

  “Explain to me about the bill,” I ordered.

  Justin’s face blanched, and he looked at Noreen with worry before turning back to me. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Both of my brows rose.

  “Oh really? That’s the way you want to play it?” I asked carefully.

  His eyes narrowed on mine.

  “Noreen, give us a minute,” he ordered.

  Noreen balked, as she always did.

  She’d always been that way.

  She hated to be told what to do, and especially when it came to her own safety.

  She was always oblivious.

  And this time was no different.

  If she didn’t get out of here in the next two minutes, she was going to witness me beating the absolute crap out of her husband.

  “Now, please,” Justin said again when she’d crossed her arms and started t
apping her high heeled foot.

  She turned around in a rush of annoyance.

  “Fine,” she hissed. “Just be ready to go in half an hour.”

  With that parting comment, she left, leaving me with a man that was partially responsible for having my son killed.

  “Time for you to talk,” I ordered. “Or I’ll make you.”

  He didn’t seem worried, but he should’ve been.

  Because I was about to ruin him, and not just his face.

  “I don’t know that I understand what you’re asking,” he evaded.

  I turned and poured myself another drink before throwing it back. Then I put my hands on my hips, breathed in deeply a few times in an attempt to reign in my temper, before turning around to face him once again.

  “Okay,” I said, walking towards him.

  I popped my knuckles as I went, not stopping until I was directly in front of him.

  “You’re sure?” I asked once again.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what…”

  I didn’t let him finish.

  My fist met his stomach in the next second, and he doubled over in pain.

  The breath from his lungs exploded in a deep exhalation, and he started to wheeze.

  “I don’t know!” He insisted wheezily.

  The next shot was against his foot when I stomped mine down on his instep before quickly following it up with a knee to the face.

  He dropped down to the ground, and I saw that the tan tuxedo he was wearing now had the blood from his broken nose all over it.

  “You’re sure about that?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he was crying now.

  I smiled then.

  I used the bottom of my foot to force him onto his back, holding him in place with some of my weight on his chest as I looked down at him.

  “Well then, let me tell you what I already know,” I said, looking down at his blood-covered face. “I know that you were asked to back a bill and when you said no, they retaliated by shooting my son. Then, when you realized how far they were willing to go, you suddenly changed your mind and backed the bill.”

  His eyes closed, his shoulders slumped, and I could’ve sworn he started to cry harder, but it was hard to tell since he was already crying pretty hard from the broken nose.

  It had to sting like a bitch.

  “I can’t tell you!” He whined nasally.