His Crime

by Debra Kayn

  Jeremy needed to take his anger and use it to his advantage. He'd make a hell of a Moroad member once he put his past behind him and started living for himself and his club.

  "What are you thinking," Christina asked.

  "I'm too old for this shit." Cam stretched his leg, bringing relief to his bad knee.

  She frowned. "I'm serious. You've been sitting out here by yourself. I want to know what's going on in your head."

  He said, "Jeremy deserved a father growing up."

  "Everyone deserves a mom and a dad." She squeezed his thigh working her way down to his knee and massaging the muscles. "More importantly, everyone deserves someone to love them. It doesn't have to be their parents. Sometimes being accepted and loved unconditionally by someone who chose to love you is better than wondering if you're loved because you have to be."

  "Huh," he said.

  "When I worked at Silver Valley Children's Services I was able to witness adoptive parents and how they loved other people's children. They were special people and seemed to have more love than the typical parent did, because they genuinely wanted a child. I think they appreciated being in the position of raising a child and never took their job for granted. They felt blessed." She rubbed his thigh in long, slow strokes.

  Her slim fingers curved around the side of his leg. He stretched, relaxing his leg, which helped ease the lingering ache in his side. Christina made a good point.

  His parents never gave a damn about him. He would've been better off with a foster family or being adopted. Maybe if he'd lived differently growing up, he wouldn't be the person he was today.

  "You were good at your job." He glanced at her. "Do you miss working with the kids?"

  "Sometimes." She turned and smiled. "Mostly, I'm too busy to think about what I'm missing. I enjoy doing the books for the club and I've discovered I like taking care of the house. I might've done things differently if you'd given me a choice back when you forced my hand and I quit my job. I don't know..."

  "Regrets?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "No. I enjoy being here and I like working on my own time and outside."

  "The yard," he muttered.

  She grinned. "Especially the yard."

  "Someday, things will slow down." He kissed her. "You might decide you want to do something different."

  "You'd allow that?"

  He shrugged. "You're wearing my ring. As long as there's no extra danger with what you want to do, I'd be okay with you working if that's what you wanted. Though working for the county is probably not a good idea considering you're living with me."

  She raised her brows. "You're not the most popular man in Federal."

  "Yeah." He ran his hand down his beard. "That's the truth."

  "What if I wanted to keep doing what I'm doing?"

  Cam let his chin fall to his chest and he glanced over at her. "I'd make it worth your time to stay home."

  She laughed softly. "Look at us, having a normal conversation like regular people."

  "Yeah." He shook his head in amusement. "At least you and me are okay."

  "Us," she said, taking a deep breath. "Jeremy will be okay in time. I have to believe that's true. I'm worried about tonight's meeting though. The club can't...they won't..."

  "Vote to kill him?" Cam said, finishing her sentence. "I'll do my best to stop them if they do."

  "What about Merk?"

  Cam's jaw tightened. "It's up to the club."

  She nodded, accepting Merk's fate. Cam looked across the yard at the travel trailer. Usually he had a good idea what went on in Merk's head. Since his return, he'd kept quiet. Merk even stepped back and let Cam deal with Jeremy. Hell, Merk even stood up for him when Jeremy mouthed off.

  "Do you think Merk will try to take Jeremy from us?" Christina asked quietly.

  "The kid is an adult. There's nothing Merk can do."

  "But what if he tries to sway Jeremy into believing we're bad?" Christina shivered and leaned closer to him. "He has a nice, safe home here. Clean clothes. Balanced meals. It's a home he can be proud of when he brings over a girlfriend. Jeremy will realize that, right? Compared to Merk living in a travel trailer, Jeremy would be happy here."

  Cam shifted and met her worried gaze. "Is that why you've been busting your ass around this place? Do you think because the house is painted, the lawn is green, and our clothes are folded and put away Jeremy will want to stay."

  She turned, her shoulders rounding. "I don’t want to give Merk any reason to convince Jeremy he'd be better off without us."

  "Ah, baby." Cam hooked her neck, bringing her back to him. "Whatever happens will happen. Don't try to prove yourself to anyone. Jeremy knows how you feel about him. That's all that matters. If Merk or Jeremy tries to hurt you, I'll stop them. You want Jeremy, you got him. I'll make sure of that."

  "Stop." She kissed him lightly, lingering on his lips, her fingers digging into his beard. "You can't force someone to stay."

  "Forced you," he mumbled against her lips.

  "I'm different....and probably insane, but I love you in spite of all that." She pecked him. "I have to do things the right way. The good way."

  The front door of the house opened. Cam turned his head. Jeremy stopped.

  "Morning," Christina said, standing up. "Let me make you some breakfast."

  Jeremy held up a sandwich in his hand. "I found the peanut butter."

  "You need more than that." Christina clasped her hands in front of her. "I can make you some scrambled eggs and sausage."

  Jeremy shook his head. "No time. I'm leaving."

  "No!" Christina moved forward and grabbed Jeremy's arm. "You can't leave."

  Jeremy shook her off his arm and walked down the steps. Cam stood. His natural urge to grab him and knock some sense into the kid stopped as Christina's hand slipped into his.

  "Don't let him go," Christina whispered.

  "Jeremy? Meeting's at five o'clock," Cam said.

  Jeremy kept walking, ignoring Cam. Christina stepped to the edge of the steps, "Jeremy?"

  The kid stopped and turned around. "What?"

  "Are you coming back for the meeting?" Christina asked.

  "Yeah." Jeremy pivoted and continued on to his motorcycle.

  Christina wrapped her arms around Cam. He gazed after Jeremy. Apparently, Jeremy decided he'd talk only with Christina, and completely ignore him.

  "He'll come around," Christina said.

  "I'm his fucking president," Cam muttered.

  She patted his stomach. "No, you're more than that. For three years, he believed you were his dad."

  Fuck.

  She was right.

  He protected the kid, provided for him, and went to prison for him. The pressure in his chest tightened knowing Jeremy directed his anger at him. Somehow, he thought he'd get away with putting a roof over Jeremy's head and that'd be it. Bringing him into Moroad meant more numbers on the outside of the Cycle fence. Instead, he stood here wishing the kid would at least talk with him.

  The travel trailer door swung open and Merk stepped down into the grass. Cam grit his teeth together. Time ran out for his ex-vice president. Tonight, he'd find out what thoughts Merk kept to himself and if he planned an attempt to overthrow him. If Merk wanted to continue living, he'd give up any agenda he had toward Cam and the club.

  Stache, stretched out on the lounger near the trailer, dropped his arm from his forehead and lifted his head, following Merk's every move. Cam looked around for Rich and found him working on his motorcycle at the end of the driveway, near the road. Every minute there were two guards on Merk. He wasn't going to let Merk turn on him again.

  "I wish Merk didn't live on your property. He belongs in prison," Christina whispered. "He makes me nervous."

  Merk walked over to Jeremy. Cam slid his arm off Christina and put his hand at his side near his pistol. Without knowing Merk's thoughts, he wasn't going to take a chance of Jeremy getting hurt.

  Jeremy ignored Merk, started
his motorcycle, and took off down the road. Cam relaxed. At least Merk landed on Jeremy's shit list with him.

  "Is it wrong of me to want to smile, because Jeremy totally slammed Merk?" Christina whispered.

  Cam looked down into Christina's upturned face. "No one's judging you."

  Christina bit down on her lip, unable to hide her pleasure. Cam caught sight of Stache heading toward the house. "Why don't you go ahead and go inside. I'll be there after I talk with Stache."

  She kissed him, glanced once more at Merk, and frowned. Cam waited for her to leave, but she hesitated.

  "Baby?"

  She snapped her gaze to Cam, swallowed, and looked back toward Merk. "Be careful."

  "Nothing is going to happen to me," he said.

  Christina left the porch and went inside the house. Cam turned to Stache. "What did you find out?"

  "I talked to Jacko. Mayor didn't have any family listed on the call sheet. Merk, Rich, and me went and rode by the site where we buried him again. Nobody's going to find him." Stache blew out his breath. "I had Johnson, Mister, and Kev return the Blues' members to their territory over in Montana. Mister made the phone call letting them know where the bodies could be picked up."

  "Any message from Miller?" Cam expected retaliation from the leader of Blues and the gun chain impacted by the turn of events.

  "Yep, Miller wants to meet with you after they deal with putting their men to rest." Stache covered his mouth and ran his thumb and index finger down each side of his long mustache.

  "I'm ready." Cam pulled out his wallet and removed a piece of paper. "I told Christina I'd stay close to the house today. I already gave Gunner the pouch of money. You'll need to go buy money orders, make the phone call to the prison, and put the Moroad inmates' money into commissary for me. Here's the list and the numbers."

  Stache pocketed the paper. "Bear and Rich are coming to watch Merk in an hour. I'll call Gunner and meet him in town once the others arrive."

  "That'll work." Cam walked away. Inside the house, he followed the constant hum of the dryer and found Christina bent over the washing machine. He tilted his head, taking in her bare legs underneath the frayed cuff of her shorts. His gaze traveled over her round ass and up to her slender arms.

  She turned and found him watching. Her eyes softened. "That didn't take long."

  "How about doing me a favor and forgetting about the laundry, the imaginary dust you always find, and leave the damn mower parked in the shed."

  She straightened, landing flat on her feet. "Deal."

  He held his hand out. "Come on."

  Instead of leading her through the house, he walked through the utility room and out the back door. Away from the manicured front yard with all Christina's rules of where to put the beer cans, no riding in the grass, and lack of weeds. He preferred the untamed backyard. Crab grass grew at uneven lengths and the occasional flower from a missed weed reminded him of the way things were supposed to be.

  Wild, natural, and free.

  He lifted her up onto the surface of the picnic table. Then he sat beside her, planting his boots on the seat below him. He gazed out at the Bitterroot Mountains, the tamarack trees, the array of pinecones littering the edge of the lawn.

  There was a time in his life that he didn't believe he'd still be alive and holding on to this old place. Cam braced his elbows on his knees. He had a woman at his side, a kid who hated him, and two gangs that would love nothing more than to take everything he had away from him. His latest crimes of killing Blues members upped the odds of him ending his lucky streak.

  He didn't fear death. At times, he'd welcomed the reprieve of ending the constant fight to stay alive.

  Christina slipped her hand onto his thigh. "What's going on?"

  "Tonight's the meeting." Cam clasped his hands together and continued looking up at the mountain. "I've got Jeremy's future covered."

  "How?"

  He dropped his gaze to his hands. Hands he barely recognized and thought belonged to someone older, abused, neglected. In prison, he had a lot of time to discover the changes taking course within him that while living on the outside he overlooked each day.

  The skin on the back of his hands appeared loose, rough, and dry. The scars across his knuckles told stories he couldn't remember.

  His hands spent almost forty-seven years protecting and keeping him alive.

  With only himself to depend on, he'd used his hands to cover his face from his father's beatings and to cover his ears at his mom's constant verbal abuse growing up. Later, he'd taught the other boys in school to mind their own business with his fists. Eventually, he became stronger and bigger, and he used those same hands to keep men away from him in prison.

  His hands hurt.

  His hands killed.

  His hands tired easier with each new day.

  "How and why I do things doesn't concern you. Jeremy will remain a member of Moroad MC." Cam stretched his fingers. "Merk's punishment...I don't know."

  Christina gathered his right hand in hers. His gaze landed on her fragile hands and yet, they seemed stronger and more reliable, the skin taunt, flawless, and untouched.

  He fingered the silver ring he'd given her, turning it around on her finger, hoping she understood how much she meant to him. "The other night on the run, we had some trouble. A Blues member turned on us. I expected the setup. I knew Reds would come after us, but didn't know how. They obviously found someone from Blues to do their dirty work."

  She brought his hand up and kissed his knuckles. "What happened?"

  "I killed three men before they could destroy everything I've worked to build in my life. I lost a good man. Mayor never questioned me, and I ordered the bullet to end his life as a thank you." He let go of her hand, stretched his leg, and faced her. "I did it—"

  "Don't say you did it for me," she whispered.

  "I did it for the club's future." He paused, needing to tell her more. "I did it, because I'm not ready to leave you yet."

  Christina gave a short shake of her head and her lips firmed. There would always be death and destruction. He couldn't lead a club of felons without shedding some blood. He made no excuses for what he'd done and he'd do it again if the same situation occurred.

  He acted on instinct and followed no other man's rules. Perhaps he stayed alive, because he refused to be intimidated. His method served him well. There was nothing special about him.

  He killed anyone in his way, because no one yet had stopped him.

  "Every time I think I understand you and your reasons, you do something else that confuses me more and leaves me wondering why I'm..." She sucked in her breath. "Cam, why?"

  "I've told you all along, we're different. We think differently," he said. "People...they build their life around their emotions, until they let their own fucked up ways choke the life out of them. Strong people guard their thoughts, never letting anyone defeat them. Nobody will know my weakness."

  He feared nothing, except losing Christina. Each day he woke wondering if today would be the one where she failed to understand him. And yet, he hoped she never changed. He needed her to remain the one good thing in his life. He'd make sure nobody knew to use her against him.

  "Black or white?" he asked.

  She lifted her chin and firmly said, "Black."

  He nodded, hoping never to be the cause of her indecisiveness or corrupt her stance in life. He expected nothing less from her.

  Christina saw the world in two categories. Good versus evil. Right or wrong. She held on fiercely to her morals, and still found the strength within herself to accept him.

  His life was neither black nor white. It wasn't simple.

  There were two sides to every story. Whether that story followed society's idea of the morally conscious way of doing things, he wouldn't know. Nobody taught him how to feel empathy for others or asked him to understand the other person's story. Nobody had the right to judge him.

  Chapter Twenty Three

 
The fire in the pit crackled. Christina leaned against the porch railing, caught in the hypnotic pull of the orange flames licking the sky. She'd learned to judge the Moroad MC member's mood by how big they built the fire on Friday nights.

  A couple logs burning down to coals meant the members moods leaned toward carefree attitudes and unbothered troubles. Beer flowed heavily, voices carried up into the mountains, and jokes came faster as the night progressed.

  A bon fire with every branch, dead wood, and a weeks' worth of split wood overflowing the fire barrier and shooting flames higher than Cam's head showed how high tension in the club ran. The members rather concentrate on building the fire than face each other or the problem sitting in front of them.

  Tonight, Christina understood the reasons behind the monstrous fire. Jeremy and Merk were going up in front of the club. While Cam assured her Jeremy would remain in Moroad, Merk's position still balanced on the vote. She hoped they kicked him out.

  She looked away from the fire, blinking the blind spot out of her vision. Guilt of wanting Merk far away from Cam and Jeremy left a constant ache around her heart. She'd never wish someone to die. It was wrong and it made her a bad person to want him to disappear. But, she was no longer the naive girl who tried to ignore the actions of the Moroad MC, because she fell in love with Cam. She understood the rules and though she hated some of the things they did, she couldn't help thinking about how her worries could go away depending on the vote tonight.

  Cam would kill Merk if the vote came back in agreement. While she wanted Merk gone, she'd never lay more guilt on Cam's shoulders.

  The rumble of Jeremy's motorcycle pulled her attention off herself. She exhaled in relief. He'd texted her a half hour ago and let her know he'd make the meeting, but until she saw him with her own eyes, she'd worried. Now she could trust Cam to take care of him.

  Jeremy parked his bike and headed toward the house, ignoring everyone around the fire. She had no idea what went through his head, knowing his life could end tonight. His uncaring attitude screamed he cared. The others failed to see past the mask he wore, but she felt his pain.