by Jayne Blue
“Anybody hurt?” I asked. “Where the fuck’s Colt?” I tossed my phone on the table.
“Boss, we have a problem,” Sawyer answered, his voice stern. He, Charlie and Tiny passed a look between them and I didn’t like this one damn bit. I took my seat at the head of the table. Sawyer had a manila file in front of him and he tore at its edges with his fingers.
“Out with it.”
“You’re not going to like what we have to tell you. We went round and round about what to do with this.”
I took my seat at the head of the table and pounded my fist against it. “Colt texted me 911. He wakes me up out of a damn good sleep next to a fine woman and he’s not even here to fill me in? At this point I don’t give a shit about any of that. What do you have for me?”
“It’s Scarlett,” Sawyer said and my heart dropped into my boots. But she was fine. Safe. I’d just left her naked and snoring in the bed. Sawyer handed the folder to Tiny and he pushed it across the table to me. I stopped it with my palm.
“What am I going to find in here?” I tapped the edges of the folder, not wanting to open it.
“She’s lying about who she is,” Sawyer said. Tiny just looked green and uncomfortable.
“We didn’t have much to go on besides the plates on that Mustang she drives.” Tiny chimed in. He wouldn’t look me in the eye and a sick feeling rose up my spine. “I called in some favors down at Green Bluff P.D. “
Charlie coughed. He was petting his long, grey beard, something he only did when he was nervous. “I called a friend to help us out with the credit card number she used when she bought beers in here the other week. The night those pricks tried to drug her.”
“And?” My temper flared. Even as I curled my fists, I kind of realized the hypocrisy. I’d given Colt the go ahead to look into her. Now that he had, whatever the results, I needed to know. As they talked, I flipped open the file. The numbers on the printouts in front of me swam and had no meaning. Sawyer’s voice drilled into my head.
“Credit card she used came back to someone named Elizabeth Martel. Plates on the Mustang to someone named Marie Parish.”
I flipped a page in the file. A full color mug shot stared back at me. Marie Parish. She looked like a fifty-year-old crack head with wild, kinky black hair and vacant eyes. I flipped another page. Another mug shot. Elizabeth Martel. This one had crazy eyes and heroine-gray teeth.
“What is this?”
“Both of those chicks are dead,” Sawyer chimed in.
“Okay?” I tried to make sense of what was in front of me. Scarlett had lied. I’d kind of known that from the beginning.
“We can’t find anything associated with Scarlett Shaw from the paper trail she’s left,” Charlie said.
I nodded. They were all being cagey. And where the fuck was Colt? Sawyer spoke with halting words and it was clear he was trying to handle me.
“I knew she had a deeper story than what she was telling me. I’ll talk to her. She might get pissed when I confront her with it but I think she’ll come clean.”
“Boss,” Sawyer said. “She’s a con artist. That much is pretty clear. Now, it might just be small-time shit. Credit card fraud. I mean, if she stole the car, that’s something else again but by the looks of those chicks in the mug shots, I don’t think either of them were really the owners of either the credit card or the Mustang. There’s identity theft going on. I mean, that’s pretty obvious.”
“Okay.” Of course, I didn’t like it. Not one bit. But I wasn’t ready to throw her over just yet. Not without talking to her.
“Boss,” Sawyer said again. “If she’s some kind of two-bit con, that’s one thing. Hell, time was we maybe could have used somebody with her set of skills.”
“But what?” I said. I closed the file and leaned back in my chair. None of the contents of that file warranted the ashen-faced looks I was getting from my top soldiers. Half of them wouldn’t even look up. At the end of the table, Avery and Big John were busy picking at their nails.
“But.” Sawyer took a deep sigh. He leaned forward and tapped his fingers against the table. His dark eyes flashed and I could see whatever he had to tell me was eating at him. “Colt had one of the prospects pay a visit to Hansen over at the motel. You know he owes us a lot. He was in a talking mood. She’s had some visitors in the last few days. And again, none of that makes a damn bit of difference. She’s entitled to her life. But the other day, Jinx Howell came to see her. Hansen said he went into her room with her. Alone. They were in there together for at least a half hour. Then Scarlett left but Jinx stayed there.”
Jinx Howell. Shit. He was only the right-hand idiot of one of the club’s biggest rivals. “You think she’s hooked up with the Devil’s Hawks.” My throat felt thick with rising bile at the thought of it. The Devil’s Hawks were some of the worst scum in the world. The idea that Scarlett would willingly spend time in the same room with any of them, much less Jinx, had me reeling.
Sawyer nodded and ran his thumb over the dark stubble of his chin. “It’s really looking that way.”
“You think she’s fucking Jinx Howell?” The words made me sick. I didn’t really believe them. Jinx was a lowlife meat head. Scarlett might be a con artist. This might all be part of some scam she was trying to run, but she had to have her standards.
It was like the ground beneath me was made of quicksand. I had a million arguments. Scarlett was Scarlett. It didn’t matter to me that she had secrets. It didn’t even matter to me if she made her living scamming. Hell, there were plenty of us in this very club who had done much worse. I had done much worse. But so many little things started to shift in how I looked at them.
Scarlett, showing up just after I nearly bought it at the cliffs. Her refusal to give me real details about her business. The panic in her eyes last night when she begged me to skip town with her. I decided not to share that last part with the guys. I didn’t know what it meant yet.
“I want to talk to her.”
“Boss.” Charlie folded his hands in front of him. “We all get it, okay? She’s special. Nobody’s denying that there’s something about her. We get that you care about her and we all understand.”
“Quit fucking handling me.”
Sawyer held his hands up in surrender. “Yeah. Okay. It’s just, things being what they are, we need to get some solid answers from her. You know damn well if this girl had her hooks into any of the rest of us ... you’d do the same thing.”
“Do what?” I knew the answer, and a part of me hated myself for the tone I leveled at Sawyer. He was loyal. He was trying to look out for me and for the club. He was doing his job. And still, I wanted to rip his fucking throat out. This was Scarlett. Scarlett. My heart shredded just thinking about what had to be done.
“Nobody wants to hurt her,” Sawyer said. “We just need to get some answers from her. That’s all.”
My heart thundered in my chest. I wanted to rip the room apart, smash heads. A war brewed within me. I had to put the club’s interests ahead of everything else. Their safety and mine was the only thing that mattered.
I pressed my thumbs into my eye sockets and let out a great sigh. My fucking guts were torn to bits. I couldn’t admit it to them. Hell, I had just admitted it to myself.
I loved her. I was fucking in love with Scarlett. And yet, the possibility was very real that she’d come into my life to do me and the club harm.
“Sly?” Tiny’s voice shattered me.
“Fuck. Just . . . fuck.”
I put a hand up and nodded even though I was shaking my head. “I get it.” Though the words came out of my mouth, they sounded far away. The blood of Blackie Murphy ran through me just as much and in that moment I hated myself.
“Nobody’s going to hurt her,” Sawyer said again. “And if you hadn’t almost fucking died last month, well, nobody would say another word about it.”
I covered my face with my hands then looked up. Ice snaked through my veins as I looked around the room.
Colt. Where the hell was he? Unless . . .
I sat back in my chair hard. “Mother fucker. Where is he? Where’s Colt?”
Charlie put a hand up. “Take it easy, Sly. We said it a million times, nobody’s looking to hurt that girl.”
"So you all decided to make a move on Scarlett without coming to me first.” Heat blazed in my chest. Colt. This was Colt. I knew it as I looked in Sawyer’s eyes. I tried to work it out in my head. What the hell would make Colt take action behind my back like this? It was an act of defiance that was seriously messing with the dynamics of the club. Bitter bile filled me. I wanted to punch something or someone. No. Not someone. Colt. My Irish brawler blood was flaming hot.
“No? But you all just took it upon yourselves to lure me back here. Is that it?”
Sawyer cast his eyes downward. “Watching your back is our number one priority. If she does have anything to do with the Devil’s Hawks and what almost happened to you, it wouldn’t have made a lot of sense to tip her off.”
“You sent him over there? He’s there now?” I stood up. Sawyer, Avery and Tiny got up too. They stood in front of the door. Sawyer put his hands up.
“Just sit tight, okay, boss?”
“Get out of my way.”
“Samuel,” Charlie snapped. The only old-timer left, Charlie was also the only one who could still get away with calling me by my given name. “Just take a ten count would you? You know damn well everything Colt’s done is exactly what you would do if this shit were turned around.”
I turned on Charlie. Old Timer or not, even Charlie needed to remember who wore the president patch in this room. “Colt fucking answers to me. All of you answer to me. If you want a different deal, you bring it to the table for a vote. Until then, we run shit my way, not Colt’s.”
I wondered if any of them actually had the balls to put their hands on me if I decided to keep walking toward that door.
“Get him on the phone,” I said; my voice came out lower than I was used to and strange to my ears.
“Gunner’s there with him,” Sawyer said. “He knows to call if there’s any trouble.”
Gunner was the prospect most likely to get patched in next. Or at least he was until he decided to go with Colt behind my back. He was currently staying at my guest house at the foot of my driveway. Scarlett had never met him. Sawyer kept talking but his words were drowned out by the slow, sick beat of my heart.
“Goddammit.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” Tiny said.
I nodded. Except it wasn’t. I had the very real feeling that nothing about this would ever be okay again. I stood up and headed for the door.
“Boss?” Tiny said.
“I need a fucking minute, all right? I need to ride..”
“Here.” Sawyer tossed his keys to me. “Take my ride. But don’t go by yourself, okay? Avery and Big John, you go with him.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Dammit, Sly!” Charlie heaved himself away from the table and stood in front of me. “Take Avery and Big John. Keep your phone on you. Come home in an hour. Shit’s serious right now and your temper tantrum isn’t helping.”
I curled my fist at my side.
Charlie put a beefy hand up. “I’m sorry. Look, I really am. This is about the last thing any of us wanted to be doing today. But Colt’s going to take care of this. It’s gonna be okay. But none of us need to worry about you riding off halfcocked when the club’s in the midst of a little crisis.”
I took a breath. I wanted to say a thousand things, but again, I might be a hot head. I wasn’t an asshole. I nodded. “I’m going back to my house. If Gunner and Colt are already there, nobody else needs to come. Anyone here wants to try and stop me?”
Chapter Nineteen
Scarlett
Twenty minutes after I woke, Sly still wasn’t back and he hadn’t answered my call or text. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to run. This was all wrong. Something had happened and I needed to bolt. There could be no good reason for Sly to take off without telling me after the conversation we’d had last night.
I checked my phone again. No messages from Sly. Half a dozen messages from Lewis. I turned the thing off and slid it into my back pocket. I had my purse and the keys to the Mustang. And I had something more important: a head start.
Then the back door opened and my heart leapt. I took the hallway almost at a run, ready to leap into Sly’s arms at the same time I gave him shit for scaring me. I made it halfway there before I stumbled backward.
Colt stood in the hallway looking large and powerful. He had a hand behind him and I recognized from the set of his shoulders he was reaching for the piece he carried in his waistband. Just like I did. My hand went behind me but clutched air. My weapon was in my purse. My purse was sitting on the front hall table about twenty feet away.
I took a step back. Colt had the advantage of surprise. He saw the look in my eyes and he took three strong strides toward me. I doubted I could outrun him, but if I could just make it to the hall table . . .
As I turned, the front door opened and closed.
“Hey, Gunner,” Colt called out. The young kid at the door was new to me. He was huge. Wide through the shoulders with an unruly mass of curly hair. He wasn’t wearing a cut so he was likely a prospect or one of the club’s hangers-on. Whatever he was, he was now in my way.
I turned back to Colt and smiled. At the same time I kept moving toward the front hallway. This Gunner wasn’t going to make a move unless Colt told him to. I just needed a few seconds. “What’s going on?”
“Sly had to head to the Den to take care of some things. He wanted me to come out and make sure you were okay.”
Bullshit. So the choice to make now was whether I kept up Colt’s charade or come up with a better one of my own. The third option would be to find a way to disarm him. I’d just need a few seconds jump. I kept moving toward the hall table. Head to head, I doubted Colt could outdraw me and the kid just looked like a deer in headlights. A very large, lumbering deer in headlights.
I took a step back, not liking my odds at the moment. Colt was in front of me, the kid was directly behind me. They were each moving toward me. Just a few more steps and Colt would have his hands on me.
“Let’s sit down and talk,” he said. “Sly will be back in a few.”
I nodded. “Great. Then if you don’t mind, I’m just going to let you make yourself at home. I’ve got to grab a few of my things and take off for a little while. I’m meeting Sly later.”
I turned and ducked around Gunner. He seemed a little confused. I’d judged correctly. The kid wouldn’t do shit Colt didn’t instruct him to. It gave me the precious few seconds I needed to reach for my purse on the table.
But Colt was faster and smarter than I gave him credit for. He got to me and shot a hand out, laying it flat on top of my small leather purse.
“Why don’t you let me hold on to that for you?” he said.
So this was it. He’d made me. It had been a lie when I said it to Kagan, but it turned out Colt had been the one to watch out for. My heart sank. If Colt knew something was up, so did Sly. The fact that he’d made himself scarce struck a chord of fear and despair in me. My instincts were right all along.
“How about I say no?” I answered. I struck low and quick, pushing Colt back hard with my foot as I grabbed my purse and pulled out my weapon. I’d banked on the fact Gunner was just here for show. I guessed right. His eyes widened and he took a step back but didn’t advance on me. Colt recovered fast and made a move toward me but by then I already had my gun pointed square at his chest.
Breathe. Aim small. Miss small. Count. One. Two. Squeeze. I could hear the pop in my head. Just like so many times before. A cloud of red. There would have to be at this close range. But he wouldn’t feel it. One right through the heart and he’d drop to his knees. Over. Done with. And I’m in the wind forever. The kid probably wouldn’t even have time to react. I could drop him too, or I could
just knock him out. I didn’t do innocent bystanders.
Colt froze. You should go for your gun, I thought. Why didn’t he? His eyes went wide for just a fraction of a second but maybe he saw something in mine. In that instant, he knew who I was. He had no doubt. I can respect a man who knows he’s about to die and faces it head on. I’d like to think I’ll do the same when it’s my time. And sooner or later, I knew it would be.
My heart started to beat again and I met Colt’s piercing stare. Do it or don’t. Make Kagan my enemy or the Great Wolves. Though Colt was the one standing before me, my vision filled with images of Sly. The way he watched me when he didn’t think I was looking. That killer dimple that deepened when I walked into his arms. The feel of his strong hands sliding around my waist and resting at the small of my back when he brought me close to him.
My pulse thundered like a sledgehammer as I squared off with Colt. I straightened my back and lowered the gun a fraction of an inch away from his heart. Not now. Not here in Sly’s living room.
“I think I changed my mind,” I said. “Let’s go have a seat and talk.” I pointed the barrel of my gun toward the couch in Sly’s front room.
Colt arched a brow. Even with a gun pointed at him, after he’d seen what was in my eyes, he didn’t lose his swagger and I could respect that too. He still looked dangerous with dark eyes rimmed with thick, black lashes. He had kind of a sexy pirate quality about him. Circumstances being different, maybe we could even be friends. Except that was looking more and more like a fairytale. The best I could probably hope for was to make it out of this house alive and without having to kill anyone else. My heart sank knowing the chances were I wouldn’t get both.
“First though, take care of him.” I tossed my purse at Colt with my free hand. He caught it one handed. “Tie him up.”
Colt opened my purse and found my wad of zip ties. I swear, I saw the hint of a smile lift the corner of his mouth. “You know,” he said. “Most chicks just carry lip gloss.”
“Right. Turn around, Gunner, give him your hands.”