by Ryan Michele
Negotiations were something I excelled at. There had to be an arrangement that suited us both, one we could manage over the phone. It would be the best course of action. The less contact I had with him, the better. I could have Ike, one of the bouncers at Sirens, pick her up. Win-win all around.
He chuckled, and my body went on alert because of the slyness in it.
“Babe, you don’t get how this works. You want something from me that I have, bring your ass here, and we’ll discuss it. Tomorrow night, seven.” Silence.
This time when I looked at the screen, the number fifty-seven blinked rapidly. He’d hung up on me.
“That arrogant piece of shit!” I growled, tossing my phone to the couch where it bounced on the cushion.
I should have known he’d still be a dick. Some things never changed. Guess I was going to meet up with Cade after all.
I completely ignored the slight tremor that thought caused.
***
During the entire drive, I berated myself for giving the money to Nanette in the first place. One stupid decision started this path, one I could have avoided if I’d stuck to my rules.
Nanette’s eyes were anxiously cast to the floor of my office as she rung her hands together absently.
When she didn’t talk, I prompted, “Speak.” It sounded like a command I would give a dog, but at times like these, when people wouldn’t get on with their shit, it was deserved. I had shit to do, and she obviously needed something.
“I need to borrow five thousand dollars,” she said in a surge.
I leaned back in the leather chair behind my desk, my brow raised as her eyes looked everywhere but at mine. Nervous? No, she was damn near petrified.
I waited out the quiet for her eyes to meet mine, the fear coming across loud and clear.
When they did, I asked, “For what?”
I wanted to hear her out, because if she had problems, I needed to know whether those problems would blow back onto Sirens. It was always about the business.
“The bank’s gonna foreclose on my house if I don’t come up with the money by Friday.” Her eyes filled with moisture.
While I wasn’t a cruel and heartless bitch, this wasn’t my problem. She was a grown adult and needed to handle her own problems, including money to pay her bills.
“No,” I answered firmly. “You can go now.”
Nanette’s face turned to dismay as my answer rolled around in that head of hers. Her skin paled, her nose twitched, and she swallowed hard, as if not to puke. She began to say words; only, they came out as sounds of mumbled breath as she lost her composure.
I held up my hand in an effort to stop her choking rambles. “Stop trying to talk. Listen. I’m not a bank. I’m not an ATM machine, and I do not run cash advances. You need money, you work for it. That’s how the world goes round.”
“Please,” she started in a rush. “I’m taking care of my dad. He’s sick, and if I lose the house, I’ll have nowhere to make sure he’s okay.”
“Not my problem.” This was one of the reasons I closed myself off from the people around me, only letting a small few into my tight-knit circle. I had heard so many sob stories over the past five years running Sirens that not much penetrated the thick wall around me.
“Trix, I’ll pay you back every penny with interest. Please. You’re my last hope. My dad has lung cancer, and it’s progressing quickly. All my money goes to his treatments, and because of that, I got behind on the mortgage. I just need an advance on my checks. I’ll work extra shifts, and come in whenever you want.” Her words strung together like a melody, and fuck me, I felt her panic.
She continued, “He has no insurance, so I’m paying for everything out-of-pocket. It’s bleeding me dry. I don’t know what else to do.” Tears rolled down her face. Judging from her body language, which I had learned from the best how to hone in on, the bitch was telling the truth.
Fucking hell. I didn’t want to feel it. I tried to push it back. The businesswoman inside of me screamed, ‘No fucking way!’ while the woman inside of me was proud of how Nanette took care of her father. Was I really going to do this? Shit.
“Twenty-five percent interest to be paid in full six months from now.”
Nanette’s eyes lit up in shock. “Really?”
“That’s six thousand two hundred fifty dollars in my hand six months from this date. A fucking day late, I’ll make your life a living hell.” I would, too, finding every way possible.
“Okay,” she said, swiping away the remnants of her tears, a flash of relief snaking into her eyes.
I folded my hands, placing them in front of me. “I’m not fucking around, Nanette. These are the terms.” I pulled out the gun from the holster attached under my desk, setting it on the hard wood. Her eyes widened. “Every last penny in six months,” I reminded her. “You sure you wanna do that?” It was the only out she would get if she agreed.
She nodded her head then spoke, “I understand. Six months, sixty-two fifty in your hand.”
I put the gun back in its holster, my warning as clear as I could make it.
“Out. I’ll have the money for you by the end of your shift.”
My damn pride would not let this go. The bitch owed me a lot of money. I wanted it back. I wanted her. If that meant I had to go into unfamiliar territory with a guy I did not like, so be it.
***
“Oh, my God, he’s coming this way,” my friend Beth practically screeched.
I hit her arm, trying to get her to stop embarrassing the hell out of me, as the hottest guy in school walked our way. Most considered him on the bad boy list, and damn if that didn’t send my heart a flutter.
His eyes locked on mine. I couldn’t stop staring; he had some sort of trance over me. Those blue eyes held mischief and intrigue.
“Hey. How you doin’?” His voice was deeper than most of the other boys in school, making him seem older and more mature.
“Fine,” I responded, my nervousness coming through on that one word.
“Wanna go out?” he asked as my heart squeezed. The hottest guy in school had just asked me to go out with him. Holy fucking shit.
“Sure,” I replied as calmly as I could.
“Cool. Meet me at six at Regan’s.”
Regan’s was a local diner hangout that we all went to regularly.
“Okay.”
He winked then turned, striding off.
Beth’s wide smile mimicked mine as we closed our eyes and did a silent, little, open-mouth scream. I had a date with the Cade Baker.
As I pulled myself out of my thoughts, my breath hitched at the monstrosity in front of me: huge cinderblocks stacked one on top of the other, higher than my two-story house. The ends looked like princess parapets with sharp points in the roof. Windows all around them provided a view of every direction. At closer look, I noticed men standing inside them, their eyes trained on me. I felt like I was going into a war zone instead of a motorcycle club.
I rolled up, stopping the SUV at the closed gate to the entrance.
Unease whispered around me due to the heavy security. Who in the hell were they protecting in there, the fucking president?
A large man built like a stubby Mac truck with a goatee and light brown hair came up to my window, his eyes covered by black glasses. I hit the automatic button to lower my window, waiting for it to clear all the way down.
“What can I do for ya?” he asked, bending into the window with a smirk on his face. He made no qualms about looking down the front of my shirt at my ample cleavage. I hadn’t worn the shirt for that purpose, but I had very few shirts that didn’t show off the girls.
I snapped my fingers three times in quick succession, and his eyes met mine. “My eyes are up here.”
“But down there is just as fucking good.” He licked his lips as lust blazed off him.
Men, they were all the same: Booze, bitches, and boobs.
“I’m here to see Cade.” Dammit, I needed to stop that. Cade was
n’t his damn name any more, but separating the two came as a challenge. “I mean Spook. He’s expecting me.”
“Fuck, boss man always gets the prime pussy.” He groaned in a way that suggested this type of occurrence was routine, an idea which I pushed out of my head as soon as it entered.
I arched my brow. “No one gets my pussy but me,” I combated, tilting my head just a touch.
I told things like they were and didn’t back down from a fight or a challenge. That being said, I had also learned how to cut my losses and get the hell out of a bad situation. Burly man here would not intimidate me.
“Doubt that one.” He nodded to one of the guys in the tall tower, and the steel gate slowly started to open with a loud creak in front of me. “Have a good time, and when you’re done, come find me.”
“No, thanks,” I murmured, driving away from him with no intention of searching him out ever.
The wide area felt vast, almost like a whole city block. I had lived in Tennessee all my life, so of course, I’d known of the Vipers Creed. Everyone did. However, to actually see their compound, to be in their space, unnerved me. There was an aura of power that I felt down to my bones, causing me to fight back a shiver.
Vipers Creed MC had bought an old army compound many years ago. The structure on the outside reminded me of the classic war movies I passed by on television. Inside the gates, though, looked nothing like the starkness of the outside.
Several buildings outlined the space. An enormous structure looked like it had two, maybe three, levels to it. I assumed that was the main building, because several smaller concrete structures surrounded a large courtyard with bright green grass and a fire pit off to the side. Some actually looked as if they were homes with plants and flowers around them. It seemed homey, comfortable in a way, like a family lived here and took care of it.
Off to the far left sat Creed’s Automotive, with several hot rods and a few bikes lining its parking lot.
A spot near the larger building came into view. I parked my car, turned off the ignition, and then sat back in my seat, giving myself a moment. I did this before every business meeting just to make sure I got my head on straight. Too bad this meeting had to be with Cade. If rumors over the years served me right, he was the president of Vipers Creed. The two guys I had talked to confirmed it with the boss man bullshit.
People changed a lot over time, going different paths, some good and some not so good. I wasn’t a judge, jury, or executioner in this scenario, but I had to wonder, with all the security, exactly how much Cade changed from the boy I’d known all those years ago. Did his life happen to be so dangerous that he had to be behind cement walls with guys guarding them? And if it were that dangerous, why would he choose this life?
I wanted to bang my head on the steering wheel. It didn’t matter. I was here for one reason and one reason only. I should have found comfort in the knowledge that the meet was business, but it didn’t come.
With a heavy sigh, I opened the SUV door then hopped down to the blacktop. I pulled my shirt down, readjusting myself and making sure the girls were covered. I’d gone simple, wearing a pair of ripped jeans, a blue V-neck top, and flats. I loaded myself up with silver on my wrists and a couple of chains around my neck. I didn’t do much with my hair besides run the brush through it. I liked having my chestnut tresses fall in thick waves down my back.
“Hey, mouse,” a man with a bald head and a tailored beard said from my left. Black sunglasses covered his eyes, and his lips were lifted into a sexy smirk. He wore a leather vest, which had a Secretary patch on it, over a dark blue T-shirt. He was attractive in his own unique way.
Mouse was a strange greeting, but I went with it.
“Hi, I’m here to see Ca—Spook,” I told him, lifting my hand to block the penetrating sun that my sunglasses had no chance of hindering.
“I bet you are.” He chuckled, running his hand over his beard as he appraised me.
I should have felt heat from his intense stare, but I didn’t. Okay, maybe a flicker if I was being honest with myself. I knew how I looked, considering I saw myself in the mirror every morning.
My body drove some guys crazy because I had an abundance of tits and ass. I understood that. It was even flattering that men found me attractive. At the moment though, I didn’t need his appraisal or anyone else’s. I just wanted to get this shit over with. In and out. Wipe my hands clean of Cade again.
“Can you tell me where he is?”
The bald man walked closer, holding out his arm with a crooked elbow like an usher would do at a wedding. I smiled. It was cute, especially from a burly man like him. I placed my hand in the bend of his firm arm.
“Let me show you to him,” he said.
We began to walk, and all the while, the heads of the guys sitting in the courtyard area turned and whistles erupted. I ignored the noise, falling into step with the man.
“Thanks,” I told him with a pat on the arm.
“Anything for the boss man.”
While I didn’t know Cade’s life, I had some assumptions. I watched the television shows about men in motorcycle clubs and all the havoc they raised. I didn’t know if they were actually true, but at least I wasn’t going in completely blind. I did know they had a hierarchy of power, and the men had to ride Harley’s. Other than that, I only knew what the TV shows told me.
Who am I kidding? I was pretty much clueless.
The man chuckled deeply. “So, what’s a hot piece like you coming here for?”
When he asked the question, I looked up at him. Lines sprinkled around his eyes and lips like he’d ridden his bike in the sun for hours. His face matched the tanned color of his head. It wasn’t a look, though; it was him.
A small grin played on his lips, catching my attention. I didn’t know if he already knew the answer to his question and was playing me or if he actually was being inquisitive. Once again, I rolled with it.
“I have word one of my girls is here with you. She owes me money, and I want it.”
He opened a solid, steel door, and we walked into darkness. I ripped my sunglasses from my face as the low hum of the newly turned on lights illuminated the room. The scents of stale booze, cigarettes, and sex permeated the air like a thick haze. I knew those three smells by heart because I smelled them every day. They were my livelihood, the reason I had stepped foot in Cade’s world.
“This way,” he said, pulling my arm.
I followed him into a wide open space. Tables were scattered throughout with chairs at each of them. A long bar sat on the other side of the room with loads of liquor, looking like it could give me a run for my money in comparison to the one I had at Sirens.
I felt kind of strange holding this guy’s arm without knowing his name, so I asked.
He lifted his shades to the top of his head and stared down at me with eyes the color of the ocean. They weren’t blue, and they weren’t green. They were both, and they were breathtaking. I got sucked into them momentarily.
“Stiff.”
“Stiff?” I questioned as he walked me through the space and down a long hallway. What in the hell kind of name was Stiff?
Pictures hung on the wooden planked walls, but at the pace we were going, I had no time to look at them without stumbling over my own feet.
He chuckled. “Yeah, mouse. You stick around, and I’m sure you’ll find out why.” He winked then stopped us in front of a wooden door. With his fist, he banged loudly three times, shaking the pictures on the wall next to the door.
“What?” barked a voice from the opposite side. Even with the wood between us, with that one word, I felt my body instantly awaken, wanting to pull toward the sound.
“Someone here to see ya,” Stiff yelled back.
“Nice intercom you have here,” I murmured.
Stiff chuckled.
Little did I know opening that door would change my life forever.
* * *
Read more in Challenged … www.authorryanmichele.ne
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Excerpt of Shamed (Ruthless Rebels MC Book One)
Shamed (Ruthless Rebels MC Book One) Copyright © Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele 2016
* * *
Kenderly
* * *
The alarm loudly beeps behind me, waking me from a restless sleep. Rather than turn it off, I toss the overly fluffy teal comforter over my head, wishing I could hide away. Stay safe and calm in my bubble of warmth. Where nothing can hurt and I can pretend that everything is perfect; okay, a small bit of perfect, in my world.
“Five more minutes, mom,” I grumble to myself because she really doesn’t care whether I stay in bed or not. Hell, I could leave for days and she’d never be the wiser.
She’s here, but she’s not really here. She checked out years ago and I’ve lost hope she’ll ever check back in. When my dad died, alongside him my mother did too, just not physically.
That was eight long years ago.
Tossing the comforter back from its cocoon of warmth, exposing myself to the world, I roll to my back and slap my hands down forcefully to my sides on the mattress; it does nothing but give a small poof of air. Blowing out a heavy breath, I think about turning the alarm off, but I don’t. Instead, I watch the white blades of my ceiling fan turn around and around. Continually on the same path and never stopping. Never changing.
Funny how I can relate my life to a damn fan.
Reaching over, I slide the plastic piece on the top of my old digital clock to shut the noise off. My dad’s alarm clock. The one that used to be in his office and the one I cherish. I was eight when he passed it on to me.
“Kenderly, you gotta take initiative. Remember, in life, it’s not about how far someone carries you but how far you take yourself.”
From that day on, like magic, I got myself up for school on my own, with my special clock. It continued on as I grew up and got a job. I’ve come to love the sound of that alarm and hate it all the same. Love it for the memories, hate it because I’m awake in my life again.