by Debra Kayn
Pop had to have understood the risks and decided the only way to guarantee her safety would be to continue paying Reds. She trusted Pop's business smarts more than Merk. She'd pick up where Pop left off and pay off the debt, once and for all.
Eight hours later, the office in shambles, Desiree leaned back in the chair. She hadn't found even a scrap piece of paper with her dad's debt scribbled on it in the office. She'd gone through all the files, and nothing. Whatever Pop had going with Reds, he kept a clean trail.
A knock at the door wiped away her exhaustion. She gazed through the glass window and motioned Katie inside.
"Hey." Katie stepped in and closed the door. "I brought you a sandwich from the deli."
"I'm not hungry." She moved the stack of papers in front of her to the side of the desk.
Katie picked up the files piled in the extra chair, set them on the floor, and sat down. "You need to eat. Starving yourself won't make what Merk has done go away."
"So, you knew what he was doing?" She plucked the toothpick out of the sandwich and ripped the ribbon off. "That's great to hear. I thought you were my friend."
"I am your friend. Your best friend. If it seems like I don't tell you things, it's because I'm protecting you and our friendship." Katie leaned forward and sighed. "Do you remember Troy?"
"Yeah." Desiree poked the toothpick into a scar on the top of the desk.
She'd hated Katie's old boyfriend. During the two years they went out, she rarely saw her friend, because Troy wouldn't allow them to get together.
"The reason I stayed away from you had nothing to do with him forcing me to stop being your friend. It was my decision. Troy was bad news and despite my lack of judgment, I stayed away because I refused to give Troy a reason to hurt someone I love."
"You let him hurt you," Desiree said.
Katie smacked her lips apart. "I believed he was the best thing for me. I wanted to become one of the women who the Moroad MC claimed. That was a mistake, or at least going out with Troy was a mistake. I love the men in Moroad. I know you don't understand my need to belong with them. You had Pop, and I only had my mom when she needed something. Usually, she didn't need me."
"I will always need you, K-girl." Desiree plopped her chin in her hand. "Everything is so messed up. I was starting to fall for Merk, and then to find out he only stayed around to make me pay for sending him to prison for killing my dad hurts. What kind of person does that?"
"Whoa...hold on." Katie stood. "He's the man who killed your dad?"
"You didn't know?"
Katie shook her head and sat back down. "No, of course not. Shit. I can't believe this."
"You can't believe it? What about me?" Desiree picked a pickle off her sandwich and popped it in her mouth. "Do you remember when we used to talk about the perfect man?"
"Yeah. You liked the strong and silent type who would protect you from everything that made you upset. I wanted the rebel who would argue all day and make love to me at night," said Katie.
"All those times growing up when I described my fantasy man, I was describing Merk, except I knew him as James. He's the man who made sure the bad men didn’t find me in the basement the night my dad was murdered. I didn't even know Merk was James. He doesn't look the same."
"You were twelve years old," said Katie.
"Thirteen. I didn't even know I identified him to the sheriff when they showed me his picture, until Pop let me know months later that no one would come and hurt me."
Katie nodded. "His real name is James Tarmerk. No one ever calls him that though."
"He thinks I'm this horrible person who wanted him to pay for the murder." Desiree groaned. "I can't walk up and tell him what happened changed my life for the better. I didn't want him to kill my dad, but I also don't miss him. Life with my dad around wasn't easy, and I was a kid. I was self-centered and only wanted him gone, so I wasn't afraid anymore. God, I sound like a bitch. What kind of person doesn't cry when a parent dies?"
"Stop. Don't say anymore. I know what you went through." Katie reached across the desk and hooked Desi's pinky with hers. "This is not your fault. You were a kid."
"Merk blames me."
"Then, you'll talk to him and tell him what happened." Katie pushed the sandwich closer to Desiree. "Eat or you're going to get sick."
"Even if I talked to him and told him my side of what happened, I'm not going to forget how he used me." Desiree took a bite, swallowed, and continued. "He should've told me who he was before he started working here. He could've punished me then or killed me, whatever he has planned to make me pay. He didn't have to pretend to like me and sleep with me for months until I started falling in love with him."
She took a few more bites. The more she ate, the angrier she became at Merk. If he wanted to hurt her, why had he stuck around when Pop died and gone three whole months without having sex with her? More than a lover, he acted like a best friend.
Last night, he'd made love to her and they'd connected. She brushed the crumbs off her hands. She'd seen the relief in his eyes before he'd closed himself off. The same look he gave her when he promised to come back. She wasn't a young girl anymore. She wasn't imagining his reaction. He'd opened up, bared his soul, and gave her a painful view of what went on in his head. That view scared her back then and it terrified her now. Maybe he'd wanted to keep her in the dark, and that was what upset him.
The bite of sandwich stuck in her throat and she swallowed hard. "Whatever. I'm done thinking and talking about him."
"I hate to leave, but I need to shower and get ready for work." Katie stood and rounded the desk. "Don't tell me not to touch you, because I'm going to hug you and you're going to let me, because I need a hug."
Desiree smiled or at least inside she wanted to. She opened her arms. "Get your hug over with before I decide to punch someone."
Braced against the emotional need to bawl on Katie's shoulder, she squeezed, and then pushed her away. "Go to work. I'm going to go take back my bar from Jacko before he scares off all the customers."
"You're sure you want to work out there?" Katie frowned. "You can take time off. Nobody would blame you."
"Yeah, I'm sure." She followed Katie out into the bar.
The dozen customers mingling around the room were typical for a Tuesday evening. She walked over to the cash register and opened the drawer to see what kind of business happened during her absence.
Jacko slid along the floor in his socks and came to a stop beside her. "Want to check my pockets to make sure I didn't still any cash?"
"Are you trying to get me to put my hand in your jeans?" She glanced at him, rolling her eyes at his grin. "You're hitting on the wrong woman. I decided I don't even like men."
"If you think that will push men away, you're wrong." Jacko leaned back, crossed his ankles and his arms. "Why don't you come over to my place after we close up shop?"
She faced him. "You only want me to go see Merk, and that's not happening."
"Okay." Jacko sprang forward and grabbed a mug. "I just thought you'd be the one person to help him."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, unable to stop herself from caring.
Jacko shrugged and walked backward to the tap. "Stache checked on him earlier. He needs help, and won't let anyone near him."
She stepped toward him. "He's hurt?"
"That's what I just said, isn't it? He needs stitches."
She slapped Jacko's arm. "I thought you meant he was angry at me or whatever. How did he get hurt?"
"I don't know." Jacko filled the mug with beer. "Can't really see where he's hurt with all the blood."
Her stomach pitched.
"It was covering his face," added Jacko.
She covered her mouth.
"Maybe Stache got him cleaned and found someone who could stitch him up." Jacko walked away and served the beer to Mike.
"He's a big boy, I'm sure he'll manage to help himself." She glanced down at Jacko's feet. "And put your boots back
on before the customers get disgusted and leave."
She walked over to Johnson. "Tell Jacko to put the drawer in the office and lock up when the bar closes."
"Are you okay?" Johnson paused in wiping down a table and eyed her carefully. "You look funny."
"I look like shit, but thanks for noticing." She left the bar, ignoring her customers.
Up in the apartment, she paced the living room. Jacko mentioned Stache went to check up on Merk. He didn't need her. His club would take care of him.
She dug her phone out of her pocket and stopped. Katie would already be working. She groaned, pressing a hand to her stomach. If Katie needed to work that meant Stache probably escorted the other Moroad women over to Silver Girls and Merk was alone.
"Not my problem. Not my problem," she muttered on the way to the bedroom.
Tomorrow, Merk would get over his problem and go back to planning a way to hurt her more. She flopped down on the bed. He wanted to cause her pain, because she made an innocent mistake. What was she supposed to have done?
Tension shot straight up her spine and settled in the back of her head. How far would Merk go to make her pay for turning him into the sheriff?
Chapter Nineteen
The building rattled on its foundation, pushing Desiree sideways and she stumbled. She dropped the ice cubes she held to her eyes in the sink and grabbed the counter. Holding her breath, she waited for the building to shake again.
The drinking glass sat unmoving on the counter. The leaves on her African Violet sitting in the windowsill trembled slowly, coming to a stop. She exhaled in relief. The commotion from the rock blast at the local mine happened every nine months or so, and sent the town rocking from the unsuspecting explosion underground.
She picked up the hand-towel and dried her face. The bags under her eyes remained despite her best attempt at getting rid of them.
Giving up on making herself appear as if she'd received a full night's sleep, she pulled out her Ear Buds, set her Ipod on the counter, and walked to the living room.
Banging pounded the door. She yelped and jumped back when the door crashed open.
"Jesus Christ, you need to answer me when I'm yelling for you." Jacko grabbed her upper arm. "You need to get down in the basement."
"Why?" She dragged her feet. "What are you doing?"
"The front of the bar is missing." Jacko pulled her down the steps.
"What?" She slapped at him, coming to an abrupt halt on the landing. "What are you talking about?"
"Reds. Explosion. All the windows are blown out." Jacko guided her to the back steps. "You need to stay in the basement where it's safe."
"My bar?"
"Yeah, your bar. Blown up. Boom." Jacko pushed her into a chair. "Stay put. I'll have one of the men come down with you until we know what's going on."
She stood back up. "Wait. I need to see what happened."
"Hell, girl. Your bar is toast. Couldn't you hear the explosion?"
She sank down into the chair. "I-I thought it was a rock blast."
"There's no sound with a rock blast. How could you miss the noise? Practically the whole town is outside wondering what the hell is going on."
The police sirens broke through her shock. She rocked in the chair. "I was listening to music, and...my bar is gone?"
Jacko squatted down beside her chair. "Listen to me. You're alive. Your bar is out of commission. Moroad members are headed here now. I need to get back upstairs, because there are only so many of my brothers who feel comfortable around the cops. I've volunteered to do the talking, but they're going to want to talk to you and get your statement."
"I don't know what happened." She grabbed onto Jacko. "What am I supposed to tell them?"
"Exactly nothing and everything." Jacko grinned. "Be yourself."
He left her alone. She stared at the empty basement, hearing footsteps up above, sirens, and breaking glass. Her legs bounced against the chair. Confused and worried, she tried to remember what happened before Jacko broke into her apartment.
The building rumbled. Ice melted against the bags under her eyes. She needed to water her plant. She tilted her head and looked up at the ceiling of the basement as the noise increased.
Footsteps thunked down the stairs and Merk stepped into the room. Awareness electrified the fine hair on her arms. Her body vibrated and she gripped the chair under her thighs.
The chaos happening upstairs only provided a backdrop to her racing heart.
Merk's angry face appeared in front of her. His hands, fisted at his sides, intimidated her. She swept her gaze over his features, unable to understand the change. He had butterfly strips visible through his tussled hair hanging over his forehead. His bloodshot eyes swept over her and came back to her face with an intensity she couldn't explain.
Everything about him seethed with rage and the fumes of alcohol rolled off him.
Pain filled her chest.
He equally scared her and pushed her into wanting to take care of him. Tears clogged her throat, choking her. She desired Merk from day one, and now she understood why. She squeezed her eyes closed and reopened them. No matter what was going on, whether it was gang members in the basement, Pop dying, Reds threatening her, Merk always made her feel safe and expelled the bad out of her life.
He was a wildcard. Unpredictable, unreadable, unemotional. She lowered her gaze, knowing she was being unfair. Merk had emotions, an excess of feelings, and every single one was aimed at her.
Jacko ran down the stairs. "Sheriff's coming. Get your ass out of here, Merk."
Merk's body hummed with aggression, conflicting with the permanent gaze he had on her. Everything came down to which one of them would throw down their cards first and call the game.
She swallowed. "Go, you were never here."
Merk gaze twitched, he stepped forward, and stopped. She shook her head. There was nothing he could do to help her. Whatever happened upstairs was not because of him.
"I'm okay," she whispered. "Go."
Deep, commanding voices reached them and Merk turned and slipped up the stairs. She held her breath, listening for the backdoor opening to signal him leaving the building safely.
Sheriff Colby broke Desiree's concentration when he stepped in front of her. "Desiree? I need to ask you some questions and it would be best if we went outside until you have a contractor come in and secure the building."
"Secure the building?" She stood. "Is it that bad?"
The sheriff nodded. "Until an inspector evaluates the possible cause, we don't want anything moved or disturbed."
She followed the sheriff outside, trailed by Jacko. On the sidewalk, she crossed her arms and hid her surprise. Cam stood beside his motorcycle smoking a cigarette and gazing down the street. The ache of the unknown made her nauseous.
"Can you tell me what you were doing prior to the explosion?" asked Sheriff Colby.
She glanced at Cam. "I was upstairs in my apartment getting ready to go downstairs to open the bar for the day."
"Was there anyone in the building with you?"
Jacko had been sleeping on the floor in the bar since Merk left her. Her throat burned and she covered her throat with her hand realizing Jacko could've been killed if he was in the building. She caught Cam shaking his head.
"No, I was alone," she said, not knowing if she lied or told the truth.
"Did you hear anything before the explosion?"
"I didn't even hear the explosion." Her forehead pounded and she rubbed her head. "I had my Ear Buds in and my music on. I had no idea what was happening. I felt the building shake. I thought it was a rock blast."
"I've already made a call into the local mines. No one is reporting a rock blast this morning." Sheriff Colby looked at his notes. "You were upstairs, correct?"
"Yes."
Jacko stepped behind the sheriff and raised his brows. She bit down on her lip and looked at Cam, who watched and warned her with his presence. Had she given the wrong answers? She
had no idea what happened and was at a loss what to tell the sheriff.
"You were in the basement when I came into the building. Do you remember how you got downstairs?" Sheriff Colby raised his gaze and held his notepad at his side.
"I..." Her chest tightened and she gulped.
Jacko was a felon. She'd unknowingly pointed the finger at Merk the last time the police questioned her. She wouldn't make the same mistake again.
"I was coming out of my building." Jacko rocked back and forth on the heels of his boots. "I live above—"
"I know where you live Mr. Baker." The Sheriff shifted to the side, keeping Desiree and Jacko in his sight.
"Figured." Jacko shrugged. "Anyway, I heard the blast and since Joe passed away, I've been helping out at the bar. You know, picking up odd jobs, trying to survive. I went inside the bar, because I was worried about Desiree. I thought maybe she got hurt. I took her downstairs to keep her safe in case the whole place fell down."
She stared slack jawed at Jacko. Far as she knew, he spoke the truth. He'd busted her apartment open to retrieve her.
"Desiree, do you have anyone who you would suspect held a grudge against you or the bar? Maybe an upset customer?" Sheriff Colby wrote in his notebook without looking at her.
She shook her head, realized he wasn't looking, and said, "No."
"Okay, if I have any other questions, I'll be in contact." Sheriff Colby faced her. "The inspector is on his way and should be here within the next hour. I'm not sure how long it'll take him to investigate the site. Until he's finished, you'll need to stay out of the building. The firefighters are putting caution ribbon across the front, shutting down the sidewalk. I'll have a deputy make an extra sweep through town every hour to make sure we don't have any curious kids try to walk through the hole in the front."
She nodded, unsure if she wanted to walk around the side of the building and see the damage or not. Everyone talked as if the building was completely ruined.
"Do you have somewhere you can stay and a phone number we can use to contact you?" asked Sheriff Colby.
Jacko stepped forward. "Yeah, uh, she can come to my apartment. It's up above—"