“I can’t believe it. It looks incredible.”
“I’m glad you like it, we really worked hard. We wanted it to feel like home,” Colt said, watching Averi’s eyes for her reaction.
“It’s perfect.”
“Well c’mon. I’ll show you the rest of the house.”
Colt led Averi into the kitchen and it took a moment for her to adjust. The old avocado green appliances had been replaced with new models and the hideous floral wallpaper had been stripped and replaced with cream paint and a sweet Americana border complete with bushels of apples and pears. A quaint breakfast nook was arranged by the kitchen window and the cabinetry had been stripped and completely refinished. Colt and Tim had truly outdid themselves. Next he led her down to the cellar, which was once nothing more than a barren basement, but now it had been refinished. Cream carpet lined the floors and a fresh coat of sage green paint coated the walls. Colt pointed out that this would make the perfect place for a play room. Averi couldn't agree more.
He led her into another section of the basement where a low budget laundry room waited for her.
"We couldn't afford the ones you really wanted, but eventually we'll upgrade," Colt said, motioning to the economy grade washer and dryer.
"This is perfect. I can do laundry and the little one can play in there. It's ideal. I don't need the best of the best. It just has to work. You know that."
"I know. I want to be able to give you everything you deserve."
"I have everything. Stop."
"C'mon, I'll show you upstairs," said Colt with an excited look on his face.
Averi said, "Okay," but bent over, tired from all the moving around.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, just tired. This trimester is kicking my butt."
"Don't push yourself too hard. You need to use this time to rest and relax."
After allowing Averi a moment to catch her breath, Colt finished showing her the rest of the house. The house has a total of five bedrooms and the upstairs is sectioned off into wings, something that Shawn had done about ten years ago when he had moved back home to live with his parents when their health was failing. The north wing was comprised of four large bedrooms and two baths, while the south wing was one large, long room with an en-suite bath. Colt had explained that Tim and Shelly were going to take the south wing, while they would take over the north wing since it had more space and bedrooms. Averi was thrilled to see that the bedrooms were largely unchanged, except for the closets, which Tim had expanded and installed organizing systems inside. The bathrooms were an entirely different story.
"This is the big surprise... I think you're going to love this," Colt said as he grabbed Averi's hand and led her into the master bath.
"You gutted the bathroom... Oh, my God... You got rid of my grandfather’s ugly avocado tub!"
Colt smirked as he watched Averi approach the surprise.
"Is that what I think it is...?"
"Jacuzzi tub."
"Oh, my God..."
"Unfortunately, you can't use the spa until the baby is born..."
"Uh... I'm just going to put my feet in."
Averi's feet were swollen and so sore. Nothing was going to stand in her way from getting some relief.
Colt laughed as he watched Averi turn the faucet on. The tub began to fill and Averi had kicked off her sneakers and peeled off her socks. Colt winced for a moment when he saw the burn marks on her poor swollen feet. It's not that he found it unattractive or ugly, it was the memories that surfaced when he thought about what she had gone through. Averi didn't notice Colt's reaction, and he was happy for that, because he didn't want her to read it the wrong way. He loved her desperately. Sometimes he needed to learn how to shut his mind off. Sliding her feet into the warm water, Averi closed her eyes and allowed the jets to soothe her sore feet. She was oblivious to the world.
"This is heaven."
Colt laughed as he walked out the door to start getting the truck unloaded. He felt as if a huge weight was lifted off of him now that they were free from Oakeley and back in the one place she was most comfortable.
***
Jimmy Hearns slid the blade of his father’s knife over his fingernail as he spoke. A flicker of madness shone in his eyes as his lips turned up into a curl.
“We strike tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
“Is there a plan?”
“You can say that,” Jimmy said vaguely, clearly not intending to speak any further on the matter.
“Care to fuckin’ elaborate?!” Trent cried out.
“Leave the plan up to me.”
“I can’t believe you’re just letting this asshole come in here and take charge. He’s a nobody!”
Jimmy’s grin broadened. He still had the knife in his hand. His biceps bulged and his jaw tensed as he approached Trent. There was a swagger in his step and a dangerous edge to his stare. Trent watched Jimmy approach, resting his arm on the table in a bored stance. Jimmy looked like he had something to say, but rather than making a statement with his lips, he let his actions do the talking. Holding Trent’s eyes with his own, he took the hilt of Black Horse’s knife and sent the blade slamming down into the old table, crashing down into the tiny space between Trent’s middle and index fingers. He missed the flesh by an eighth of an inch.
“You want to get them? I know how. We strike tonight. Any more fucking questions?!” Jimmy screamed.
Trent looked as white as a ghost.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
Turning on his heel, Jimmy turned his back to Trent and walked out, not saying another word. All the Devils eyes were on him, but it wasn’t hatred that glared out… It was the early seeds of respect and fear that shone out. No one could deny the look they saw in his eyes… the same look that poured from Black Horse’s own gaze when he was angry… When he had something up his sleeve. But Trent Myers wasn’t too concerned with the plan that he had up his sleeve, but more so what was about to be placed on his forearm.
Jimmy Hearns was about to be branded as one of their own. The mechanical growl off a tattoo gun hummed over the rowdy chatter of the room.
“Ready?” Dave Grisham asked as he pointed to an empty folding chair in the middle of the room.
Jimmy crossed the room with a smug look on his face. With a cool air about him, he smirked broadly at the other men, striking a nerve with some of them. None of them were happy about Jimmy’s presence at the club. He was an outsider. Someone who didn’t belong. And even if he was Black Horse’s son, they weren’t sure his allegiance to the man was all that strong. In fact, some accused him of having ulterior motives.
Trent scratched his chin stubble as he leaned in to Gunnar and said in a hushed voice, “How much you want to bet that this is all over that chick.”
“What chick?” Gunnar asked, acting oblivious.
“His brother’s wife.”
“Oh, her… It’s possible. But then again, his brother was involved in the murder.”
“Fucking jerkoff.”
“Well,” said Gunnar, as he eyed Jimmy from across the room. “Whether you like him or not… He just became your President.”
It took every ounce of self control for Trent Myers to stay seated and not plunge his knife into Jimmy’s belly. He wanted nothing more than to rid Jimmy’s face of that arrogant smile.
Chapter Ten
Captain Shawn Hall peered down over his glasses as he watched Detectives Spina and Morrison go through the case notes one last time. They had been at the table for over an hour, and Captain Hall was not convinced that they had enough evidence to obtain a warrant.
“Look Cap… We’ll play the footage again,” Detective Spina said as he rolled up his sleeves. Shawn could see the bottom of his Seventy Devils tattoo… The obligatory branding that all members received upon initiation.
The grainy hospital security footage played again, showing a tall man of thin build d
ressed in a grey hoodie walking out of Tom McClain’s hospital room. It was impossible to make out the face due to the hood’s shadow, but the man was caucasian, of lean build and the officers determined that he stood no taller than six feet, one inch tall. He didn’t run. He walked, casually and slowly with his head down. He looked as if nothing was wrong, and he had just come from visiting an old friend in the hospital. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“There… Do you see it?” Spina said pointing at the screen with a bright green laser pointer.
Shawn raised an eyebrow at the screen.
“What the hell am I supposed to be looking at?” Shawn peered down at his gold Rolex and protested, “Can we wrap this up?”
“Almost done. Now look,” Detective Morrison said.
Detective Spina continued, “We’ve narrowed the perp down to two suspects. I’ve seen them both walking around town in that same get up and they could both fit the description.”
“And who might that be?”
“Randy Ford and Colt McClain.”
“Hmm…” said Shawn as he scratched his chin. “Interesting theory.”
Shawn was doing the best he could to maintain his composure and appear neutral to the situation.
“Sir?” Morrison asked.
“It’s a good theory…” Shawn said in a cool tone of voice.
Morrison and Spina went to shake each others hands, but before they could, Shawn interrupted them.
“Too bad it’s wrong.”
“Sir… All due respect… We put a lot of time into this…”
“All due respect, you need to start over from the ground up. Randy Ford and Colt McClain look nothing alike. While Randy is fair skinned, with light eyes and broad shoulders, Colt is tan, jacked and at least three inches taller than Randy. The man in the photograph cannot be six feet, one inch tall as you say, because look, right there, right as he passed that nurse in the hall. That’s Nurse Grady. She is only 5 feet 7 inches. The perp is only slightly taller. Let’s also discuss the fact that both Ford and McClain both have alibis at the time of the murder.”
Spina looked pissed. Morrison looked confused. With his face turning a putrid shade of red, Spina commented, “No disrespect, sir, but I think you’re too close to this case and it is clouding your judgment.”
Shawn looked taken aback, and this time he didn’t hold his tongue.
“I think maybe your extra-curricular activities are overpowering the oath you took to uphold the safety of the public. I know all about you and the company you keep!” Shawn yelled as his chair skidded out and slammed against the wall with a crash. He approached Detective Spina with a discontent look upon his face. His brow furrowed as he came face to face with him, not even bothering to hide his disgust.
Before Spina knew what was happening, Shawn had grabbed his shirt sleeve and tugged it so that the button popped off. Rolling up the sleeve and digging his nails into Spina’s rough skin, the Seventy Devils brand stared right back at him.
“Piece of shit… Morrison, get two officers!”
“It’s old, Cap!”
“Bullshit! I coached your fucking AA baseball team when you were sixteen… I trained you when you just got out of the academy. That is new! We’ve been trying to shut them down for decades and it turns out you’re one of them!”
Morrison stormed out the door and he quickly returned with Officers Pressley and Ramone.
“Corrupting a police investigation! Trying to frame innocent men! Arrest him.”
“What grounds, Cap?” Ramone asked, clearly bewildered.
Afternoon roll call was occurring in the lobby and at least 25 officers were present. Shawn grabbed Spina by his shirt and pulled him out into the lobby. Interrupting roll call, Shawn meant business.
“Listen up! One of our own has betrayed us!”
You could have heard a pin drop. Officers stared at the Captain alert, serious and with respect. Without another sound, Shawn held up Spina’s arm, revealing his brand for everyone to see. As sounds of fury filled up the space, only three men were silent. Officer Trent Myers, Lieutenant David Grisham and Officer Rusty Prescott were silent and stony-faced among the red-faced crowd. They stuck out like sore-thumbs, and Shawn had easily recognized three of the moles. With a dark smile creasing his face, Shawn glared at each of them for a moment, non-verbally letting them know that he had their number… and it was just about up.
Shawn couldn’t be certain that they were the only ones, but he was determined to find out. As Spina was hauled off in cuffs by Officer Ramone, the Captain called Detectives Nicholson and Tracy into his office. As the door slammed shut behind him, Dave Grisham, Rusty Prescott and Trent Myers huddled up in the hall. They spoke in hushed tones.
“Now what?!” Rusty asked, clearly on edge.
“No more pussy-footin’. Let’s do this,” Trent said as he stripped off his uniform shirt and threw his badge at Captain Hall’s door. The silver badge flew through air and cut through the wood of Shawn’s office door. As the undercover Devils fled into the streets, the office door flew open. Looking up and down the hall for the one who interrupted his meeting, Shawn was surprised when he didn’t see anyone. Rage flooded through his body causing him to heave painfully, but as he turned to go back into his office, his temper only spiked. Jutting out of the wood of his door was the discarded badge of Officer Trent Myers, proud son of the Seventy Devils.
Chapter Eleven
“Raise ‘em up!” Colt cried out as the entire moving party held up a glass. Shelly had a mojito in hand, the guys gripped their cold beer bottles and Averi held up a refreshing glass of orange juice.
Colt pulled Averi in tight as he addressed the crowd.
“Seriously guys. We cannot thank you enough!” Averi said, beaming brightly at their friends who had helped them get their entire house in order.
“Good luck, guys! We wish you well…” said Jax.
“House came out really freaking nice, man,” Harlen said as he slapped hands with Colt and Tim.
“So, uh, Averi…” Torian asked with a mischevious tone of voice. “When’s the first house party? You know I love your cooking.”
Averi started to laugh. “We’re having something later this week for Tim’s birthday.”
“So Randy…,” Shelly called. “Have you seen your man cave yet?” She couldn’t stifle her laughter. She knew what waited for him out there.
“No, not yet. It’ll be alright. I’ll get it sorted in the morning. Shouldn’t be that bad.”
Colt and Tim exchanged a look and couldn’t contain themselves.
“What?” Randy asked with a bewildered look in his eyes.
“Nothing,” Tim said, still laughing.
“No really… What?!”
“You might want to go check out your digs…” Averi said with a smirk.
Randy’s eyes went wide and without another word he ran out the front door. Refusing to miss out on a good laugh, Colt, Tim and the rest of the guys followed behind, while Averi and Shelly flopped on the couch ready to fall asleep.
Randy ran across the freshly mowed grass, his boots tromping across the field that separated the house from his grandfather’s old workshop. Colt and Tim, close on his heels, couldn’t wait til he saw what had become of his “man cave.”
Randy threw open the oak door of the workshop and was appalled by what he found. He expected to find a mess. He could deal with furniture stacked on top of one another, boxes, bins, things he could discard. What he could not deal with was the dainty setting that Colt and Tim had created. Floral chairs, doilies on coffee tables, pink throw pillows and even one of his grandmother’s lavender throw rugs. It was wall to wall old lady cuteness, and Randy felt like his skin was on fire. He itched as his arms as if he had bugs crawling all over his body.
“This is not the bridge club, fellas! Oh, my God! Doilies! There are fucking doilies everywhere! Jax… Harlan… help me man up this place!”
“You mean, you don’t like Granny’s
old things?” Tim asked as he turned purple from laughing too hard.
“You’re just jealous. You gotta live in the big house, while I’ll have my bachelor pad out here… Just wait.”
Colt looked around. There were cob webs hanging from the rafters, Precious Moments knick knacks everywhere, Tim had even thought to put out a tea cup and a sewing machine for when Randy got bored.
“I’d say you’re all set. It’s got all your favorite things already,” said Colt damn near choking when he saw the look on Randy’s face.
“Get out. Get out of my man cave!”
“Real manly!” yelled Tim.
“Just wait! You two will eat your words!”
As he watched them walk off, bent over in laughter, Randy’s cell phone began to play, “Every Breath You Take,” by the Police. It was Randy’s new ringtone for Cheyenne.
“Who did you give the stalker anthem to?” Torian asked.
“Friggin Cheyenne…”
“Dude, she was hot!”
“And bat shit insane.”
“You’re perfect for each other!” Will said with a laugh, but his laughter stopped when Randy sent an old yellowing doily flying his way.
***
Jax, Harlan and the other guys left around 8 P.M. once everything was in its place. There was not a box in sight, except for Randy’s crap that was littered all over the lawn as he worked his magic on his “man cave.” It sounded like a bull was raging through a china shop.
“What the hell is he doing out there?!” Averi asked casting a wary glance out the window. It was dark outside. All she could see was a dim light shining from Randy’s new digs.
Broken Road Page 6