Roadhouse (Sons of Sanctuary MC, Austin, Texas Book 5)

by Victoria Danann

  “Thanks for comin’.”

  “Doesn’t need to be said.” Brand assured him.

  “It does,” Raze argued. “I might be testin’ the limits of my friendship with your brother.” Brash scoffed and crossed his arms over his waist. “Don’t judge till you’ve heard what I got to say.”

  “Then spill it,” Brash said.

  “My friend I got the car for?”

  “Your friend?” Brash’s eyes sparkled as he turned to his brother. “He means his woman.”

  Brand nodded and took a bite of sandwich. “This is good. Like the Dijon and the mushrooms. Nice pairing and gives it a little kick.”

  “Thanks. It’s one of my own creations,” Raze answered.

  “If you two girls are done exchangin’ recipes…?” Brash interjected. “You were sayin’ something about your girl.”

  “She’s in trouble.”

  “Think we got that, Raze. We’re not the people folks call when they want to put together a bake sale.” He looked at Brand. “Well, maybe he is.”

  Brand snorted good-naturedly, but said nothing.

  “She stole money from the mob.”

  The Fornight brothers stopped chewing at the same time and donned identical expressions of amazed reaction to the short, but shocking sentence just blurted into the lunch conversation.

  After a few beats Brash said, “Either I did not hear you right or this is a joke.”

  “Well, technically she didn’t steal it. Exactly. But that’s the case they’re making.”

  He recounted Clover’s story from the bag in her gym locker to the night she arrived at the roadhouse courtesy of Henry Boyd and a car that wouldn’t start.

  “Quite a story,” Brash said and looked over at his brother, who spread out his hands as if that was a silent code between the two of them, and shook his head.

  “I care about her,” Raze said quietly.

  “I think we got that, too,” Brash said. “So what are you askin’ us to do?”

  Raze looked at Brand. “You got connections up there?”

  “You mean New Jersey?”

  “Yeah. That’s what I mean.”

  Brand smiled. “Germane has connections everywhere.”

  Raze glanced at Brash who nodded as if to confirm that what his brother said was true.

  “I want to pay ‘em off. Make sure the debt is settled and it’s done and over with. For good,” Raze said. “I guess what I’m sayin’ is I don’t know the best way to go about negotiating this.”

  Brash was familiar enough with Raze’s finances to know that he was good for it.

  Brand nodded approvingly and sat back. “These things are not usually personal. If you have the money, it’s just a matter of pay off.”

  “Yeah.” Raze nodded. “I figured as much.”

  “You got their contact info?”

  “No. They were gonna come back to her in three days. Said they’d either take the money or her. She ran.”

  Brand looked at Brash. “So I need to put out the word to find out who’s looking for her. When I find out, I’ll go to the top. Make the deal.” He looked at Raze. “They’re going to want cash. It’s just how they like it. I can get somebody in my New York office to give it to them. Then you pay me back. That work for you?”

  Raze hadn’t been friends with Brandon growing up because they hadn’t even known Brand existed. But he looked so much like Brash and sounded so much like Brash, it was hard to not transfer those same feelings to Brash’s twin brother.

  Raze smiled. “I would be very grateful for that.”

  “She stickin’ around after it’s done?” Brash asked.

  Shrugging, Raze said, “We haven’t had that conversation specifically, but that plan has got my vote.”

  The Fornight brothers stood to go.

  “Everybody’s lookin’ forward to free stuff on Bike Night. Day after tomorrow, right? Oh. Got a new guy from SoCal and he’s a lady killer. Better lock your girl up ‘cause he’ll be comin’ with us.”

  “Nah. She knows she has it good.” Raze smiled.

  Brash and Brand chuckled and said their goodbyes.

  Raze walked back over to the house. As he was turning off the security system, he was calling out, “Just me.”

  Within seconds, she was in the kitchen. “How’d it go? What happened?”

  “It’s gonna be taken care of. I told you. I have friends who are good at gettin’ things done.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean when you say ‘taken care of’? These people… They’re not going to just forget about it because you say they should.”

  He chuckled. “You say the damnedest things. That coffee still hot?”

  “Tell me what’s going on, Ruin! And, no, the coffee’s not hot. You’ve been gone a long time. I turned it off forever ago.”

  “If you could wave a wand and solve this problem the easiest way possible, what would that be?”

  She threw her hands up in exasperation and plopped into a chair. “Put a giant pile of cash in a bag and hand it to them. With a five percent tip for their inconvenience.”

  “Bingo. So that’s what we’re gonna do.”

  She stared, blank-faced and blinking. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He shuffled over to the cabinet to make a fresh coffee. “Your shift starts in two hours. We close at midnight on Tuesdays.”

  “You’re making me nuts and you know it. How are you going to just hand them a bag of cash? I DON’T HAVE THE MONEY! IT’S GONE!”

  Raze leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Simmer down. I told you everything’s okay. You don’t have the money, but I do. I’ve done alright.”

  Clover’s lips parted to match the astonishment on her face. He could read a hundred thoughts flit through her mind and every one showed on her very expressive face.

  “You’re saying you’re paying the debt. For me.”

  “That’s what I’m sayin’.”

  She would have loved to have the luxury of thanking him for the offer, but declining. But she knew that would be even dumber than taking the money and paying off her creditors with it. The first time she realized she hadn’t been breathing was when her lungs involuntarily gasped like a bellows, filling up and sending oxygen through her bloodstream.

  “I just don’t even know what to say.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

  “Just say thanks.” He said it like it was no bigger favor than bringing her a slushee from Sonic.

  She nodded. “Thanks.” Her eyes wandered around the room. “It was going to take me half my life to pay off that money. I mean before the bag showed up in my locker. I’ll still pay it back. I guess I’ll just make payments to you instead of the bank. Or banks.”

  He smiled. “Sure. If you want.”

  A look of mild alarm crossed her face. “How are your friends going to find the right people? I don’t even have names.”

  “Got it covered.”

  “How do you know? What if your friends give money to the wrong people? Then you’re out your money and I’ve still got bad men coming to get me.”

  He chuckled as he walked over and pulled her to her feet. “Time for worryin’ is over. You can relax now. Start thinkin’ about the rest of your life.” He leaned down, gently kissed her lips, then tugged lightly on her bottom lip with his teeth. “What you’re gonna do.” He kissed her a little longer, his tongue invading her mouth and pressing hers into an insistent tangle. “Who you’re gonna do it with,” he breathed into her ear, sending shivers up and down her body.

  “Do it with,” she repeated like she’d lost her mind, which could be partially true. Raze’s kisses were like a gateway drug that led to wanting something stronger and more potent. “How long did you say until my shift?”

  “An hour and forty-five minutes. I’ve only got an hour. You got some ideas about how I could spend that time?” He reached for her as he asked the question. She took a step forward to show that she was receptive to the idea of afternoon del
ight. Their faces were inches apart when he looked down and said, “This doesn’t have anythin’ to do with that.”

  It was a remark constructed in a way that could be open to wide-ranging interpretation. But she knew exactly what he meant by it.

  “Hmmm,” she said.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means this has something to do with that.”

  “You don’t owe me…”

  “I don’t owe you sex. Or feelings. Or anything except the money. Which I will pay back. Eventually. But knowing that you did this for me… I’m only human. You’ve taken care of me since I walked into the roadhouse. You even gave up your own bed because I was anxious about the studio. You took care of the car thing.”

  “I’m not a hero, stray girl. I did those things because you’re so damn cute.” He nuzzled her neck and inhaled the scent of green apple shampoo in her hair.

  “Maybe so, but the point is, you didn’t do it for sexual favors.” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “Did you?”

  He chuckled. “Not consciously, but I’m bettin’ there was a part of me that was hopin’ you were gonna be in my bed with me.”

  “Would you still have done those things if you knew for sure there was no nookie to be had?”

  He pursed his lips. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “Well, there you have it then.”

  “There I have what?”

  “My respect. My interest.”

  “Your body?”

  She laughed. “All yours.”

  “Well, shut up and come here then,” he said.

  The next two days were sweet and easy. Raze was getting used to having a two-legged girl in his house. From time to time he thought it was downright scary how effortless it had been to fall into the comfort of sharing a house and a bed with Clover. Employees and people in town had taken to ribbing him about the change in his demeanor.

  He didn’t care.

  His life had turned a corner when he got Bless. That dog gave him a reason to think that life wasn’t just for shit. Then Brash demanded that he name something he wanted from life.

  He had.

  And for a long time he’d been satisfied with that. He had purpose. He liked that there was a reason to get up every day and, though some might laugh at the notion, he thought he served the community in his own way. He provided a place to loosen up. Have a drink or two. Eat some good food. Listen to music. Maybe laugh with friends. Maybe have a dance.

  His roadhouse was all about fun, but running it was a serious business and he took it seriously. He supposed he deserved the reputation of being a purpose with a permafrown.

  He’d expected that very little about his life would change until it was time to either move to assisted living or run the bike head on into a tree. The last thing he’d seen in his future was stray girl. But thinking back to the night she came through the door, he should have realized the hitch in his gut meant that fate had something extraordinary stumbling into his path.

  It was too soon to call it a second chance at happiness, but the fact that he was feeling happy was undeniable. People could razz him all they wanted. The thing he was feeling, though he wasn’t feeling compelled to give it a name, was worth it.

  CHAPTER Twelve BIKE NIGHT

  Of course anybody who wasn’t bringing trouble was welcome at the roadhouse on Bike Night, but it was understood that bikers were especially welcome. Roadhouse and ice house owners loved them because they weren’t committed to cocooning. Sometimes they left their houses at night, headed out for some open road, some live music, a juicy steak, cold beer, and good company. They lived a code based on the belief that life wasn’t all about what’s on cable or satellite or Youtube.

  The band that called themselves Thunder showed up at five to set up so they’d be ready to start at six. When it came to pleasing bikers, classic rock was the way to go and nobody was better at recreating the songs they loved than Thunder. Raze had a decent sound system in the roadhouse, but Thunder wasn’t the sort of band to take chances. They brought their own. Just in case. They told Raze one time that, “Professional musicians always have a Plan B. It’s in our best interest to use our own equipment.”

  He’d told them that seemed like, “Sound wisdom. Might be applied to pretty much everything in life.”

  Julio and Carl were rolling the glass-topped ice case out to the end of the bar area. It made a tighter squeeze, but on nice evenings Bike Night included an option for customers to choose and grill their own steaks.

  Bikers loved it. And so did Raze. Steaks grilling over mesquite-laced coals would make mouths water for a mile around. People driving by would follow their noses like canines. Those who liked heavy rock music would stay and eat. Those who didn’t would never get out of their cars. Raze scored that as a double win.

  The South Austin Meat Market delivered prime cuts. Raze ordered extra because he knew the SSMC was showing up in full force.

  Julio’s cousin always came to work as grill master. It was a job that required a certain kind of personality, part cook and part enforcer. Not just anybody was willing to correct a burly biker on grill technique or, when necessary, send him on his way. He pulled the big commercial barbeque outside using a trailer hitch and fired it up with a “secret” mix of charcoal and mesquite chips that had been soaked in water overnight.

  Raze was on his way outside to make sure all the lightbulbs strung over the picnic area were working when he saw the sheriff coming his way.

  “Raze.” The sheriff stuck out his hand.

  “John.” Raze shook hands. He’d gone to high school with John McIlvaney, but was three years younger. He was junior varsity on the football team when John was a senior, being named all state in their division. “You want a beer?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “Cain’t do it.”

  “Good to know local law enforcement is serious about bein’ on duty sober.”

  “Nah. It’s not that.” The sheriff’s palm immediately came up to slap the gut that was threatening to lap over his belt. “The wife is threatenin’ to withhold sexual attentions if I continue growin’ out over my boots.” Raze chuckled. “Whatever happened to the days when women didn’t care what a man looked like? Christ. I miss those times.”

  Raze nodded agreeably.

  “Do not bother to commiserate,” John continued. “I’ll bet you could still fit into your rented prom tux.”

  Raze shrugged. “I might’ve filled out a little since then.”

  “Yeah?” He glanced around. “Wouldn’t mind one of those thick T-bones you do, but I think Marsha’s makin’ some casserole kinda thing.”

  “You’re welcome to stop in and eat supper anytime.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Well. Just came by ‘cause I saw it’s Bike Night.”

  “That’s a fact.”

  “Just remindin’ you about the good residents of the new suburban sprawl just over that way.” He pointed to the southeast. “Swear to Christ, Austin’s gonna take us over someday.”

  “Seems likely.”

  “Space travel’s becomin’ more and more appealin’ all the time.”

  Raze smiled. “Havin’ a hard time picturin’ you on the way to Mars, John.”

  The sheriff sighed. “Can’t argue that. Thing is, though, when the atmosphere is just right and you got the bay doors open, music carries over there to the subdivision. Then the goddamned phone calls get goin’. Like we got nothin’ better to do than listen to people object to good times.”

  “Already made a concession in that direction. Band quits at ten on Bike Night, John.” It went without saying that Raze had agreed to cut the live music at ten on week nights, but on weekends, bands played from nine to one. Full stop.

  “I know. And it’s appreciated. Just sayin’ we’re gonna be gettin’ calls.”

  “I was here first.”

  “That’s a fact.”

  Raze took in a deep breath and let it out. “You runnin’ for re-election, John?�
��

  “Believe I will.”

  “Well, you know I’ve been an admirer of the way you carry the office in the past. Count on my support.”

  John’s face spread into a big smile. “Nice of you to wish me luck, Raze. I appreciate that.” His face grew serious once again. “But I might not be runnin’ unopposed like last time.”

  Raze narrowed his eyes. “Well, we definitely want to make sure you keep the job.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear. Y’all stay outta trouble tonight.”

  “Always.”

  “Yep.”

  The sheriff took long and surprisingly graceful strides to his marked SUV, the movement suggesting that he’d once been an athlete. Raze gave himself a moment of self-congratulations that he took reasonably good care of his body. He wouldn’t wish military life on his worst enemy, but he had to admit that he had got some worthwhile things out of the experience. One of those things was a sense of pride in taking care of things.

  “Startin’ to smell temptin’, Paco,” Raze said to Julio’s cousin on the way back inside.

  “Just like you like it, boss.” Paco grinned.

  Raze headed for the house to take a shower and change clothes before customers started arriving.

  After giving Bless a ten second pet, Raze hollered, “Hello!”

  Clover appeared at the kitchen door almost instantly with a welcome look in her eyes, the kind he could get used to. She’d been watching TV but she was dressed for work and he was not happy with what he saw. Even though it made him hungry, thirsty, and every other kind of needy.

  “Go change your clothes,” he said gruffly.

  He saw a second of hurt in her eyes just before her smile fell. She had the most expressive face he’d ever seen. Every thought was right there on display and readable as a neon sign. She looked down at the jeans and tee shirt.

  Raze didn’t have the servers wear roadhouse uniforms. He had them wear classic rock concert tees which he collected from Ebay for that purpose. She’d picked out a faded blue Thin Lizzy shirt from the Bad Reputation tour, Dublin, 1977. It made her eyes pop like they were supernatural. It clung lovingly to her curves like it had been made for her body.