by Nicole James
“So what are we here for?” Green asked, yawning.
“Give notice. We either get a shakedown from the new owners or he takes his business elsewhere,” Cole explained. With the MC invested in Sonny’s Gentleman’s Club, Mack wasn’t about to stand for the competition, not unless the MC was getting a piece of the action. To make matters worse, this new place had opened up only a couple of blocks from Sonny’s.
“I hope they push back. I really feel like beating some ass and busting some heads today,” Green grumbled, a hangover headache burning through his skull.
“We’re here to deliver a warning. They get one warning,” Cole clarified.
“Nice and polite like, huh?” Wolf scoffed.
“Right. Then we come back for the beat down,” Red Dog chuckled.
“Fuck. So why am I here?” Green growled.
“Shut the fuck up and come on. Or don’t you like strip clubs anymore?” Crash asked.
“And who the hell was that sweet piece you had wrapped around you this morning?” Dog asked as they moved toward the door.
“That’s Angeline. One of Sonny’s new girls.”
“They don’t last long before you tap ‘em, do they?” Crash commented.
The corner of Green’s mouth turned up in a cocky grin. “Nope.”
“She any good?” Wolf asked.
“Absolutely. Gives great fuckin’ head, too.”
“Shit! You offerin’ to share?”
“Not today, asshole.”
They walked in the place. Unlike Sonny’s, this place lacked any class. In fact, it exuded tackiness. This time of day, there was only one guy on the door. He looked them over, saw there were six of them, and wasn’t about to try to prevent their entrance and sure as hell wasn’t going to demand the cover. Cole wouldn’t have stopped if he had.
Crash and the rest followed Cole to a table, center stage. The few customers the place had, scattered to other tables when they saw the six MC members coming.
They sat down. A moment later, a cocktail waitress approached to take their drink order. Cole smiled up at her. “Bourbon, darlin’. Your boss in?”
She nodded.
“What’s his name?”
“Artie. Artie Gorman.”
“He the owner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Be a sweetheart, and get him for me.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.” She turned to leave, but he caught her wrist gently, and she turned back to him, her eyes big.
“He treat you girls well?”
She barely shook her head in the negative and whispered, “Not really.”
Cole slid a card across the table and noticed how she glanced around the room, checking to be sure she wasn’t being watched, before taking it. She read it. “Sonny’s Gentleman’s Club?”
“It’s a big step up from this place. He takes care of his girls. Tell him Cole sent you. He’ll treat you right. The other girls, too.” He nodded towards the stage.
“Thanks,” she whispered, pocketing the card, and heading off.
Cole turned back to the table. They guys’ attention was all on the dancer on stage. Cole ignored the woman gyrating up there, his eyes instead sliding to the back doorway, where the waitress had headed. He had a clear view down the hall. He could see a big man grab a girl, obviously one of the dancers, by the arm and maul her. Pinning her up against the wall, he forced a kiss on her while he felt her up. Cole elbowed Crash, who looked back at him. Cole nodded toward the hall.
Crash followed the direction of his eyes and commented, “That ain’t right.”
“That look like a man who takes care of his girls to you?”
“Nope. That looks like a man who thinks he’s entitled.”
Cole nodded. “When he comes out, go have a word with the girl,” Cole ordered.
Crash nodded. “Will do.”
A few minutes later, Cole saw the waitress reappear, followed by the guy from the hall. She nodded toward their table, and the man followed the direction she indicated, spotting Cole. He headed over to their table. Cole sized him up. He was in his fifties, a big guy with a beer gut and black rimmed glasses. He looked smug and full of himself. Cole’s favorite kind. It was always a pleasure to take his type down a notch or two.
He stopped at the table and stared down at Cole.
“Have a seat,” Cole issued the invitation, which wasn’t an invitation at all, but an order. He nodded to an empty chair.
The man glanced at the chair, but made no move to sit. “Got no business to discuss. You want to drink and stay for the show, fine. Otherwise, you need to leave.”
Crash stood up, so did all the brothers, except Cole. He just smiled up at the man, not breaking eye contact.
“You heard the man, sit down,” Crash growled.
The man broke eye contact with Cole to glance over at Crash and the four brothers at his back. Then he slid into the chair. Once he did, Crash headed to the back.
Cole leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You know who I am?”
He shook his head.
“I’m your new best friend, Artie. Or I can be your worst nightmare. It’s up to you. But here’s the deal. There’s already a strip club in this town. Didn’t need another one. So, Artie, this is how things are gonna go for you. You want to keep doing business here, you’re gonna kick a grand to the club, first of every month.” Cole grinned. “Think of it as health insurance. You pay your premium every month, you stay nice and healthy. You don’t, you’re gonna have some broken bones. And that’s just the first visit. You decide right now, you don’t want to play, no hard feelings. I’ll let you close up shop and take your tacky club somewhere else. But that’s a one-time offer, good for today only. We clear, Artie?”
Artie turned red. He glanced around the table, and then he gave Cole a curt nod.
“And just to show you I’m a reasonable man, I’ll give you forty-eight hours to come up with this month’s premium. How about that?”
Artie nodded and stood up.
“I say you could leave?” Cole asked in a deadly voice.
Artie sat back down.
Crash returned to the table. Cole’s gaze slid to him, and then returned to Artie. “I’ll be back in two days. Either you have your premium, or I better find this place boarded up when I come back.”
Artie stared at him.
“This would be the part where you nod your head.”
Artie nodded.
“Good. Now you can go.”
Crash sat down. The waitress brought their drinks and retreated with a nice tip.
“What’d the girl say?” Cole asked, sipping on his drink.
Crash picked up his glass. “He’s pretty touchy-feely. Groping’s pretty much a daily occurrence. Insists the girls give him private lap dances. They don’t play nice, they’re out of a job.”
“You set her straight?”
“Yeah. She seems to think his whole staff will jump ship. We can probably shut him down with loss of talent, alone. Still like to give ol’ Artie Asshole a personal beat-down, though.”
“Yeah,” Cole nodded in agreement, smiling at the nickname Crash had given the guy. “Me, too.” His cell rang. Flipping it open, he looked at the display. Angel. Smiling, he put it to his ear. “Hey, darlin’. What’s up?”
“Hi, honey. I’m on a test drive with a customer.”
Cole frowned. “You supposed to be making personal phone calls during a test drive?”
“No, but she’s a friend of yours.”
“Yeah? What friends do I have that can afford a Porsche?”
“It’s Shannon.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, tell her I said, hello.”
“You can tell her yourself. She wants to talk to you.”
Cole’s radar immediately went up. “She does?”
“Yes, and Cole, listen to her, okay?”
Now he really was starting to get a bad feeling. “Put her on,” he said, his voice low and commanding. A mom
ent later, Shannon’s voice came on the line.
“Cole?” She sounded shaky.
“Shannon, what’s going on?”
“I need your help.”
“With what?”
“Umm…”
“Spit it out, Shannon.”
“My ex-boyfriend is stalking me.”
Concern for Angel knifed through him. “He following you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Cole could imagine her checking her rearview mirrors.
“And you led him to my wife’s place of work? What the fuck, babe?”
“I didn’t think he’d get suspicious of me going to a Porsche dealership. I’ve been thinking of trading in my Mercedes. But I think he’s tracking my phone calls. I didn’t want a call to you to show up on my phone. This was the only way I could think of to contact you.”
“And what am I supposed to do for you? If this guy is bothering you, you should go to the police, Shannon.”
“I can’t. He said he’d hurt me if I do.”
“Again, Shannon, not sure what you want me to do for you.” The last thing he wanted was to take on her problems, especially if it meant putting his family on this guy’s radar.
“Please, Cole. Could you just meet me? Let me explain?”
Cole huffed out a breath. He could hear Shannon breaking down in sobs. A moment later, Angel was back on the line.
“Cole, please. At least meet with her. She’s a wreck, baby.”
He swore under his breath. “Alright, fine. I’ll meet with her. But I’m not promising anything more.”
“Thank you, baby.”
“Angel, listen to me carefully. You tell her to meet me at Marty’s. She’ll remember the place. 4pm tomorrow. Tell her if she’s worried he’s tracking her, he’s probably tracking the GPS on her car. Her phone, too. She’s got to dump both of them.”
“They can do that?”
“Yeah, babe. As the saying goes, ‘there’s an App for that’.”
“Alright, I’ll tell her.”
“If she really wants to get away from this guy, she’s gonna have to disappear for a while. Tell her to get as much cash as she can out of the bank without raising suspicions. For her, I’m betting that’s a lot.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“Yeah, Mama. Get your sweet ass back to the dealership, and stay there. She needs to leave. And no more test drives today. Got me?”
“Okay, honey. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Mama. Gotta go.”
“Bye.”
Cole snapped the phone closed and pitched it on the table.
Crash raised his eyebrows. “Problems?”
“I knew that Goddamn money would have strings attached.”
*****
Cole walked into his and Angel’s bedroom and sat on the bed to pull his boots off. He was beat. It had been a long day.
Angel walked out of the master bathroom, rubbing lotion on her hands. His eyes roved over her. She had already changed into her nightgown. A sexy little floral baby-doll with a cute little bow under her tits. It was one of his favorites.
“I didn’t hear your bike.”
He stood, pulling his cut off and tossing it on the chair in the corner. Then he slipped the shoulder-holster off, wrapped the straps, and stepped over to the walk-in closet. “I coasted down the drive. It’s late, and I didn’t want to wake the kids.” He opened the safe on the top shelf and locked the weapon inside, safely out of the reach of his kids. He walked back out of the closet. Angel was now seated at her dressing table, brushing out her hair.
He walked over to her, sliding his hand along the bare skin of her shoulder.
“Cole, you have to help her,” she said out-of-the-blue, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
He blew out a breath. Here it comes, he thought. “Wondered how long it’d take you to bring it up. Two-point-five seconds. That’s a new record, babe. And not even a kiss, first.” He stood behind her, his crotch against her back. She tilted her head up to look at him. He dipped his head to look down at her and trailed the tips of his fingers gently up the front of her throat.
She grabbed his hand and gave a tug, pulling him down for a kiss. “Missed you, honey,” she whispered as his head lifted.
“Missed you, too, Mama.”
“Can we talk about this now?”
“Nope,” he replied, straightening back up and running his fingers through her hair.
She set the brush down and twisted in her seat, looking up at him. Totally ignoring his response, she started in. “Cole, she gave us all that money. It changed our lives. How can you turn your back on her?”
“Angel, I didn’t ask for that money. I didn’t want it. And I sure as hell never should have taken it.”
“Cole, you can’t mean that.”
“Can’t I? That money had strings, baby. And now what? She pulls those strings and I jump? Fuck, no.” He stepped away, pulling his tee over his head and tossing it to the floor.
“But, Cole, she was so scared. You didn’t see her.”
“I remember her being a tough little cookie. Gave me more trouble than the other five combined that day.”
“That was just an act. A defense mechanism. She was a scared little girl on the inside. She just didn’t want you to see it. Same as I didn’t.”
Cole remembered that day.
He and Crash, along with several other MC brothers, had made a play to take down a guy with a particularly vile source of income, human trafficking. They’d set up a meet with the guy, planning to kill him. When he’d shown up at the meet, unbeknownst to the guys, he’d had a cargo van full of inventory.
Cole still remembered how much it had shocked the shit out of both him and Crash, when Ling had thrown back the rear doors, and they’d found themselves face-to-face with six young girls, bound and gagged. Shannon had been one of them.
She had been full of sass and attitude that day, not wanting to cooperate. He’d been afraid she’d go to the police with the tale, and lead them straight to his MC, even though they’d had nothing to do with Ling’s operation. He’d put the fear of God into her that day, convincing her it was in her best interest to forget all about it, go home, and keep her mouth shut.
They’d saved those girls that day and got them back home safely. It had been a risk getting involved in that mess, but he’d done it. And the reason he’d done it was payback for what Ling had done to Angel. She’d been one of Ling’s victims the week before. He still remembered the first time he’d seen her. She’d been in handcuffs, beaten and scared, and in the hands of an MC member of another club. Cole had gotten her out of there that night, and in saving her, he’d made her a promise that he’d take care of the men that had hurt her.
Years later, he’d come across Shannon and had a drink with her. She’d let him know how grateful she’d been, and that she knew he’d saved her life that day, years ago. Come to find out, Shannon came from a wealthy family, and she’d insisted on rewarding him for what he’d done for her that day.
She’d finally convinced him to take the monetary reward she offered. Money that had helped his family. Money that had made a lot of things possible in his life. Money that he now regretted taking.
Cole watched as his wife rose from her dressing table and walked over to him. Her hands reached for his belt and unbuckled it. Then she sank to her knees, opening his jeans. His hand slid into her silky hair, fisting and tugging gently, until she looked up at him. “Don’t.”
Her hands stilled.
He reached down and pulled her to her feet. “Don’t you get down on your knees for this, for her.”
“Cole-”
“I mean it, Angel. You do not use that shit as currency.”
“I’m not. I-”
“Aren’t you? You want me to help her. I’ll do what I can, but it’ll be my decision. I told her I’d meet with her tomorrow. I’ll see what she has to say. But, I’m telling you straight up, Angel, that shit does not touch you and th
e kids. Whatever mess she’s in, she is not gonna lead it straight to our doorstep.”
“Alright, Cole.”
He reached up and cupped her cheek. “I know you got a soft spot for this. It isn’t lost on me that you got shared history. What happened to her and what happened to you, but baby, you gotta trust me on this.”
“Alright, honey.”
“I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I love you, too.”
“I’ll do what I can, baby.”
“I know you will.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.
She whispered into his chest, “Now, can I finished what I started, honey?”
His chest shook with the rumble of his laughter.
*****
Cole, Crash, and Red Dog rolled up to Marty’s bar for the meet with Shannon. They parked their bikes in the lot to the side of the building. Marty’s was a storefront neighborhood joint. Its plate-glass window and entrance faced the street. Resting their bikes on their kickstands, they dismounted.
Crash pushed his shades up on his head and glanced around the parking lot and street. “Don’t see a Mercedes.”
“Nope, and that’s a good thing. She better not fucking drive that car here. I’m hoping she’s smarter than that.”
Crash snorted. “Right.”
They walked in and glanced around, letting their eyes adjust to the dim light. Marty was behind the bar that ran along the right wall, wrapping in a curve at the front. A line of booths ran along the left wall. A pool table was in the very back.
“Cole. Crash. Dog. How’re you boys doing?” Marty asked, wiping down the bar.
“Good, Marty. And you?” Cole asked.
“Can’t complain.” He tossed three coasters on the bar top in front of them. “So, what can I get you?”
“Bourbon,” Cole replied.
“Same,” Crash added, leaning his forearms on the bar.
“Yeah,” Dog agreed.
Marty reached behind him and grabbed a bottle off a glass shelf that sat in front of the giant ornately carved oak mirror that looked like it came out of the turn of the century. He set cut-glass short tumblers down on the coasters and tipped up the bottle, filling each glass with the amber liquor.