Love's Hope (The Unknowns Motorcycle Club Book 2)

by Reid, Ruby

  “It doesn’t sound familiar,” Slim said. “But that doesn’t mean anything. The only names I know from those stories are the guys that did the job.”

  “I understand,” Alex said.

  “Now do you want to tell me what you’re asking about it?”

  “Just one of those things,” Alex lied. “I’m trying to figure out what to do – to come back or just stay away. Things like that are deal breakers. Like… these guys killed people in that bank, right?”

  “Yeah,” Slim said, clearly not pleased. “A few security guards and some computer guy.”

  Instantly, Alex felt as if he had swallowed a cup of hot rocks. His grip on the phone intensified, and he wanted to crush it.

  “But look,” Slim went on. “That was almost ten years ago. Things have changed since then. Jameson… well, he’s a different man now. He wouldn’t ever pull off some gruesome shit like that anymore.”

  “No,” Alex said, “he just sends people like me to beat the hell out of people he’s hired to do his dirty work.”

  “I’d watch what you say,” Slim said. “Like I said, I consider you a close friend and all, but Jameson can be unpredictable. I wouldn’t be too surprised if he came looking for you.”

  “I thought about that,” Alex said. “But unless you tell him where I went, I should be okay.”

  “Look,” Slim said. “I don’t plan on snitching, but you know that Jameson has some pretty impressive and shady resources. If he wants to find you, he probably will. The only question for you is how pissed he’s going to be when he finally catches up to you.”

  Alex knew that this was true, so he only replied with a “Yeah.”

  “Maybe think really hard about coming back,” Slim said. “Bring a sincere apology with you, and this might all blow over.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Alex said.

  “Alright. You take care, Alex.”

  “You, too.”

  Alex killed the call and looked around the parking lot. He saw people coming and going and the flow of traffic thinning, as most people were at work.

  Work, he thought. If I stay away from the club, how will my work change? It’s going to be harder to sell hot cars without the shield that Jameson and the Unknowns built up around me.

  He hadn’t even thought of that since coming out to Amanda’s. He’d been too preoccupied in her bedroom, learning her curves and hot spots.

  “Damn,” he said, kicking starting up his bike. He sat there for a moment, letting it idle. He had no idea what to do now. He hadn’t gotten absolute confirmation that it had been Amada’s husband involved in that Tulsa job, but he had gotten a pretty solid nod in that direction.

  Go, a deeper part of his mind told him. Get out of this city and go to Chicago. Apologize to Jameson. If you stay here with this secret, Amada will not be able to handle it…not if you tell her now or wait a few days, weeks, or months. You’re screwed either way. The only safe bet is to head back to the Unknowns.

  He looked to the street and knew that the decision was his to make.

  A thought then occurred to him—another avenue to go down in order to get some more information about the Tulsa job. He killed the engine again and pulled his phone back out. He scrolled through his contacts and came to a name that he hadn’t thought of it a very long time. He knew that if he called this number and Jameson were to ever find out, he could be in some very big trouble.

  But before that thought could sink in, Alex pressed CALL. And as the phone started to ring on the other end, he could practically feel any hope he had of patching things up with Jameson being torn away from him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The bar had the dead sort of feeling that most bars have in that span between the end of lunch and the start of the after-work rush, but Slim preferred it that way. He did his best thinking in these environments with a beer in his hand and the quiet of a place that was usually rowdy and filled with laughter and, on occasion, tears and blood.

  He took a seat at the bar, ordered a beer from the bartender, and waited. He was meeting Jameson, and that alone made him a little nervous. The timing of it all couldn’t have been worse. Jameson had called him less than an hour after he had spoken with Alex, almost as if he had known about the call.

  While Jameson did have connections, Slim was certain he didn’t have people tracing the phones of his club members. That made the prospect of speaking to Jameson so soon after having spoken to Alex no less unnerving.

  Jameson strolled into the bar two minutes later and took the stool directly next to Slim. Neither man said anything for a while, except for Jameson as he ordered a drink. Around them, the bar was basically empty. There were two older men sitting in the far corner and a business-type sitting by himself in a booth, pecking away on a laptop. Other than that and the bartender, the place was dead.

  After a few minutes of silence, Jameson finally spoke up. His voice was soft and pleasant, which Slim knew meant that he was taking an extra effort to contain his emotions.

  “I hate to put you in this sort of position,” Jameson said. “But I want you to think long and hard about where Alex might have gone. This thing with Marco has the potential to get bad. And while it might seem petty, I have to make sure that Alex gets what’s coming to him. Had he taken care of Marco O’Brien, this whole set-up in Chicago would have gone down without a hitch. But as it stands, Marco is already spreading the word that the Unknowns are headed to town. It could get ugly.”

  “I wish I could help you, boss,” Slim said.

  “You have no ideas?”

  Slim pretended to think for a moment and shook his head. “I really don’t,” he said. “He seemed fine on the ride up here. I don’t know what happened.”

  Jameson nodded and sipped from his beer. “Well, here’s the thing. I know you two stopped in a town just outside of Omaha on your way here. I know this because I had someone on the payroll look into your credit card account…you know, the one you were approved for because of me. The one you use for getting bike parts and cash advances for that secret little heroin habit you have. I know you stopped there. And I also know that on the very next morning, when I spoke to Alex on the phone about going after Marco, he sounded off. I don’t know how to explain it… he just sounded weird. Like he was almost offended that I was asking him to go for Marco.

  “So that leads me to believe that something happened that night. Now I want you to tell me what it was, or you can consider yourself just as ousted from the Unknowns as Alex is.”

  “Boss, I really don’t—”

  Jameson moved so fast that it was like watching a ghost pass through a wall. He picked up his glass of beer and smashed it against the side of Slim’s head. Slim let out a grunt and fell from his barstool in a spray of beer and glass. When he hit the floor, there was blood pouring from a gash just above his ear.

  He tried to get up, but Jameson was already there, sending a series of kicks into his gut and ribs. The steel toed boots were like bullets striking him. He grunted against each one, curling himself into a ball to prevent them. All that did was result in a searing and exploding pain that shot up from his elbow, spiraling into his wrist in a jolt of electric pain.

  From behind the bar, the bartender started shouting. “Cut that shit out or I’m going to call the cops.”

  Jameson only sent him a fleeting glance before sending three more kicks into Slim’s side. Slim shuddered and coughed, certain that at least a few ribs had been broken. It felt like a small grenade had gone off inside of him. When Jameson stopped kicking and knelt down beside him, it was a small mercy.

  “Tell me right now what happened or you’re out. You can go back to begging for change on the streets of Reno to score another hit. Remember that, you sack of shit? Remember the cesspool I pulled you out of? You want to go back to that?”

  Slim felt tears coming on, but he be damned if he would cry in front of Jameson. He simply nodded, each move of his head sending a flare of pain through his body. />
  “So do you know where I might find him?” Jameson asked. “You tell me right now and this whole thing can be forgotten.”

  Slim nodded, hating to betray Alex but also not wanting to go back to the way his life was before Jameson had taken him in to the Unknowns. He then held up his pointer finger in a wait a minute gesture as he tried to draw his breath in.

  Jameson smiled and nodded. “There we go.” He then turned to the bartender, who looked terrified out of his mind, and said, “Another round for me and my friend here.”

  “Bullshit,” the bartender said. “Get your ass out of here.”

  Jameson reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. He took two hundred dollar bills out and tossed them on the bar. “That’s for the four beers, the broken glass, and your inconvenience of mopping the blood out of the floor. Now get our fucking beers, or you can join him on the floor.”

  The bartender stared at Jameson for a moment, clearly out of his element. He then gave a solemn nod and went about filling up two glasses at the tap.

  Jameson sat back on his stool as if everything was normal… just another day at the office. He looked down to Slim and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

  It took a while, but Slim was finally able to get into a semi-sitting position. Every breath he drew in was agony, but he managed to tell Jameson what he knew. He silently prayed that Alex would forgive him as he told Jameson all that he knew, but it did nothing to stave off the sense of betrayal that mingled with the pain in his body.

  When he was done, Jameson reached down and handed Slim the newly filled beer. “A toast,” he said with a smile. “Glad you made the right decision to stay with the Unknowns. As for Alex… well, he’s pretty much fucked. So here’s a toast to him enjoying the last few days of his life.”

  Slim could only clink his glass to Jameson’s and then take a sip of beer that burned like fire as it went down into his aching belly.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  At the same time Slim sat on a doctor’s table in Chicago to get his ribs checked, Alex was walking into a small little diner, a dive if there ever was one. He had just wrapped up the two and a half hour drive, stopping in the small town of Dunning Creek to meet the man he had called three hours ago. Walking across the parking lot, he was secure in knowing that the man he was meeting had picked the spot well. Alex felt as if he were in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing but rural countryside all around. A two-lane road wound in front of the diner and spooled out into nothing in one direction and absolutely nothing else in the other.

  He spotted the man right away as he walked into the diner. It was three o’ clock, so there weren’t many people there. Spotting the man he had once started forming a rocky friendship was easy. His name was Chester Hamel and had once been a member of the Unknowns. Alex was used to seeing him dressed in a white tee shirt, jeans, and a leather vest, so seeing his old acquaintance decked out in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts was a bit jarring.

  Chester stood up when he saw Alex enter and met him halfway down the small aisle that rested between the few booths and the bar-style counter. They met and gave an awkward man-hug. Alex noticed right away that Chester had put on some weight. He had the beginnings of a beer belly and some chub in his cheeks.

  “Looks like the biker life is treating you well,” Chester said as they broke the hug.

  Alex avoided the comment altogether and countered with, “And the nine-to-five family life seems to have severely altered your wardrobe.”

  Chester shrugged as he took his seat again. Alex slid in behind the table as well, facing Chester. “All jokes aside,” Alex said, “I’m glad things are going well for you. It’s sort of nice to see someone that made the transition from the club to family life. How is the family?”

  “The wife is working from home doing some Etsy thing. My son just turned fifteen and is the starting tight end on his high school football team. My daughter is ten and does nothing but listen to shitty music and talk about boys. But I love ‘em all. I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

  “Sounds good,” Alex said.

  “It is. But look, I doubt you called me to hear about my illustrious life in the suburbs.”

  “No,” Alex said with a smile. “No, I didn’t.”

  “You wanted to chat about the club, right?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Well,” Chester said. “From what I hear, there are a few others that are going to get the same luxury I had of getting out of the club very soon.”

  “Yeah?” Alex asked, surprised.

  “I still hear the grapevine,” Chester said. “I know all about Chicago. And rumor has it that a pretty good number of Unknowns are staying behind to be with their families. I bet that chaps Jameson’s ass like crazy, huh?”

  “He was surprisingly calm about it,” Alex said. “I think he plans on recruiting some folks in the Windy City.”

  Chester nodded as a waitress came by and took their orders. Chester ordered the club sandwich, and Alex ordered a cheeseburger. When the waitress left, Chester wasted very little time.

  “So did you have me drive thee hours to meet you here so we could go over where you might also find some stylish shirts for your new life?”

  Alex gave him a perplexed look, suddenly wondering if asking Chester to drive three hours to meet him at a central location between them had been a bad idea. Chester lived in Topeka and had seemed fine with meeting him at the halfway between Topeka and Omaha, but now Alex regretted it and was starting to feel stupid.

  “It’s easy to put it all together,” Chester said. “You were becoming Jameson’s golden boy. If you aren’t already in Chicago and are, instead, in the middle of nowhere having lunch with me, I’m assuming you’re wanting out of the Unknowns. Right?”

  “It’s not really as simple as that,” Alex said.

  “Well, you said you had some questions for me,” Chester said. “I automatically assumed you wanted to know how I made the pitch to Jameson to leave the club.”

  “That wasn’t the reason I called, but that would be interesting to hear.”

  “It was simple,” Chester said. “My wife was pregnant with our second kid. I wanted to live a respectable life. So I asked Jameson for an out. He was pissed, but he allowed it. He did make it known, though, that if I ever went to the cops with damning information about the Unknowns, that he’d have someone kill me… but only after killing my wife and kids and making me watch. Charming fellow, isn’t he?”

  “No,” Alex said. “Not really.”

  “Okay, so what was the real reason you wanted to speak with me?”

  “I wanted to know about the Tulsa job. The one with the bank building.”

  “Ah, I see,” Chester said. “Can I ask why?”

  “You can, but I don’t know that I can tell you. Not yet, anyway. The last three days have been very strange, and I think there might be some information buried in the details of that Tulsa job that might clear some things up.”

  “Well, I was only involved in the planning of it,” Chester said. “I wasn’t actually there.”

  “I knew that,” Alex said. “But what I really wanted to know if the name Stephen Randall means anything to you.”

  Chester thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. “No, that doesn’t ring any bells. Who is that?”

  “It’s the name of the systems analyst that was killed in the job.”

  “Oh. How the hell did you find that out?”

  “That’s where it gets muddy,” Alex said. “I can’t really tell you just yet.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “What else can you tell me about the job? I always only heard the bare bones and how it was some super-secret but very successful moment for the Unknowns.”

  Before Chester could respond, the waitress came by and dropped off their food. Chester took a large bite out of his club sandwich and started answering while he chewed.

  “Jameson was running out of cash, and he had someone on th
e inside that was pretty sure they could help us steal a huge amount from a bank in Tulsa. It was going to take some hacking skills and a few people on the site might have to die, but Jameson was fine with all of that. He sent three goons in through the back after they disabled the alarms on the building – again, thanks to that inside source – and they took out two security guards.

  “Now from what I understand, no one was supposed to be in the building after eight o’ clock at night. That’s why we scheduled it at nine thirty. But yeah, there was some guy that had stayed on the floor after hours. The guys Jameson sent had no idea what to do, so they did what came naturally. They killed the poor bastard.”