Time Owed

by Debra Kayn

  "You're right." He brought her hand up and kissed her fingers. "I'm not blaming you for my arrest."

  "That's what you told me."

  He loosened his jaw to keep the tension out of his voice. "Desi, the wall of your building got blown up and I blamed myself for not being there for you, because I'd picked up the bottle. A few bottles. The night I forced you to understand who you were fucking, I had to leave and back off. My intent was never to hurt you."

  "Then what is your problem?"

  Merk grimaced. "The night I went to the bar—"

  She gasped. "You weren't with those bad men?"

  "Those bad men were from Reds and a group called Los Li, an arm of the Mexican Mafia."

  Her eyes widened. He paused, thinking over his next sentence. He'd already given her too much information.

  "I'm not demanding the next twelve years from you because I went to prison. That night...fuck, you were only a child. A baby in my eyes, which makes me sound like a fucking pervert."

  "Tell me."

  "Do you remember when you put my hand on your chest...like this?" He put his hand on her chest, nestled between her breasts. "Then you asked me to come back to you."

  "You said you would," she whispered.

  Under his hand, her heart raced. "I came back, because you're the only person in my life who ever looked at me and believed I could help you. Even after I killed your dad, you gave me your trust. I don’t know if in your innocence, you saw me as an adult and it was normal for you to reach out for help or—"

  "No. It was your eyes. I knew I could trust you," she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

  "I'm not getting any younger, Desi. I'm forty-six years old. In twelve years, I'll be fifty-eight. Men my age who have spent most of their lifetime in prison don't live to see sixty. The whole time I sat in prison, you haunted me every second. I destroyed a young girl's life and in return, you grounded me when you placed my hand on your chest and handed over your trust. Twelve years of hanging onto that feeling you gave me, saved my life more times than I can count. I've paid for the crime, and now I want that feeling you gave me once for the rest of my life. I want to wake up every fucking morning with you looking up at me, trusting that we're going to survive the day. At night, I want to know I kept you safe and protected. I kept who I really am from you, because I wouldn't risk losing you."

  She looked up at him. "So, you blackmailed me into staying with you."

  "Yeah."

  "If I tell others what you are doing are you going to follow through on turning over the evidence on my gambling?" Her chest quivered. "Or is that an empty threat?"

  "I have one shot left, Desi. One chance to experience someone looking at me as if I have some good left inside of me before I die. You're the only one who can give it to me." He lowered his hand, the loss of her heat apparent. "I'm not a good man. I do bad things to get what I want. Don't ever doubt that I will follow through, because nothing and nobody is going to take you away from me, including you."

  Desi swiped her cheek with her hand. Merk stared into the flames of the fire. He'd given her what she asked for and in turn buried the information that'd ruin her. He'd take the truth to the grave before he allowed her to hurt any more.

  "Tomorrow, Katie's going to come over and keep you company. The contractor is coming in to repair the window frames before the glass installers come over on Tuesday. I'm going to be gone all day, and I'm taking Jacko with me. There will be three Moroad members hanging around to make sure everything runs smoothly and Bear will escort you and Katie wherever you need to go." He rubbed her leg. "I'll be out of contact, so if you have a problem, tell Bear."

  "Where are you going?"

  "Club business." He scooped her up and stood her on her feet. "Don't try and get the others to help you or the evidence I have on you goes straight to the sheriff. You can make this simple or difficult. Nothing has changed, except you know where I stand. My feelings of wanting you and needing you are the same. You hand over your trust, and you'll learn it can be good between us. I know there's something inside of you that still wants to believe in me, Desi. I'm telling you that you can trust me. Do you understand?"

  She nodded.

  The music from one of the cars parked in the driveway played slow music. He walked across the yard holding Desi's hand.

  In his hand, Desi clung tighter than she had when they'd arrived. Once he finished the job tomorrow, she'd be safe from her father's debts. He'd made the right decision.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Katie carried the dustpan to the garbage can in front of the plywood-covered walls. Desiree glanced at the contractor working on the front door. Between the shrill running of the skill saw and the loud hammering, she ran through the numbers she'd studied in the books earlier.

  Even if she used every single dollar set away as a cushion for the winter months when tourists left and customers stayed home instead of venturing out into the snow, she wouldn't have enough to pay for the windows and repairs. The front windows alone cost her almost a month's profit to replace.

  No matter how she adjusted her finances, she had to rely on Merk to pay for the repairs if she wanted to keep the bar in business.

  "In a few days, nobody will even notice anything happened here." Katie leaned the broom against the counter.

  A jab of regret over her shortcomings when it came to money kept her from spouting off how the bar would never be the same. She'd always have Merk's debt over her head.

  If only she'd taken her winnings from every pool game and socked it away in a savings account instead of letting Pop gamble it all away downstairs in his poker games. The amount he'd lost in the six months prior to his death would've totaled enough to renovate the whole bar and provide a cushion for the winter months. Whether Pop believed he'd hit a winning streak again or he'd bring in the extra income from the bar, she'd never know his plans or why he'd risked so much money prior to his death.

  "I think once the floor is sanded down and stained again, it'll look brand new," Katie said.

  "Merk's paying for it all," Desiree mumbled, unable to keep the information to herself.

  She'd keep Merk's blackmailing to herself for her own protection, but she wouldn't take credit for paying for the work on the bar.

  Katie raised her brows. "Makes sense, considering Reds is responsible. Moroad takes care of their own."

  "It's not right."

  "That's not for you to worry about though. Who do you think gave me the money to fix my car?" asked Katie.

  Desiree's skin prickled. "Merk?"

  "No." Katie laughed. "The club."

  Considering Katie slept with club members anytime one of them lifted their finger in her direction, she wasn't surprised the club looked out for her. Her already crappy mood sank lower. What was she doing for Moroad to earn money for the bar? Nothing.

  Bear pushed the dolly into the room. "This is the last of the bottles from downstairs."

  Relief swept through her. She hurried over and picked up the top box. "Perfect. Let's go ahead and put them on the shelf behind the bar."

  The big expense of purchasing more liquor for the bar was no longer a concern. She had enough in storage to last, and that meant one less thing added to her list of money she owed Merk. She soaked up the rush of adrenaline over the good news. Now all she needed to do was order beer from the distributers, which she could pay for next month out of her profits from the bar.

  "What do you guys think about announcing a reopening?" Desiree turned the bottle with the label facing outward on the shelf. "Maybe pretending it's a new atmosphere, a more stylish bar, will bring in new customers."

  Bear grunted. "You compete with four other bars in Federal. Each place creates their own atmosphere and works to keep their regulars. A little advertising and you could hook the tourists, which will make the residents in town come over and see what all the talk is about."

  "Too bad most of the miners hang around the bar on Cedar Street
. The money is in the single men. They tip well at Silver Girls." Katie carried over another box.

  A spark ignited. Desiree swung around. New ideas came faster than she could open her mouth to share her ideas, and she gasped.

  "What did I do?" Katie stood back and held up her hands. "I've seen that look on your face before, right before you talked me into doing something we'd both regret."

  Desiree reached out and grabbed Katie's hands. "I've got it."

  "What?" Bear stopped unloading and looked at her.

  "I...yeah, this could work." She let go of Katie and paced back and forth behind the counter. "There's what, eight hundred full-time residents in Federal, right?"

  "Something like that," answered Katie.

  "There are more men than women, because of all the miners who move here to work in the mines." Desiree stopped walking. "That's why Silver Girls is popular. The men need entertainment and they go where the girls will be."

  Katie shook her head slowly. "No...don't go there. You are not opening up a bordello. Federal has been there and done that. It worked in nineteen eighty-eight, but the Feds shut them all down."

  "That's not what I was thinking." Desiree tapped her chin. Her whole body vibrated with excitement. The feeling so foreign to her lately it stole her breath.

  Bear leaned against the counter. "Spit it out, girl."

  "Why don't you ever say that with me?" Katie leaned in Bear's direction and wiggled her brows on a laugh.

  Desiree wouldn't even let their crude amusement damper her excitement. "I need girls."

  "I can probably gather some women together if you'd let me watch." Bear grinned.

  Desiree waved her finger in Bear's face. "Stop being an asshole. I'm talking about making this a girl's bar. Girl's drinks. Girl's specials on certain nights. The women in this town are the minority. They have no place to call their own."

  "The Moroad women don't." Katie shrugged. "We hate going in the bars alone, because every man with a workable dick thinks we're hanging around for their entertainment. I've heard the Bantorus MC Silver Girls complain about the same thing."

  "That's what I'm talking about." Desiree pointed her finger. "What if all women were more comfortable here than at the other bars in Federal? I could hire a couple men who would make sure the guys obeyed the rules."

  "Wait." Katie shook her head. "It's not that women don't want men around. They want to enjoy their meal without putting up with losers."

  "One woman's loser might be someone else's ideal guy." Desiree worked her lips together as the plan formulated. "Then what it all comes down to is creating the right atmosphere where women feel welcome, maybe even empowered."

  "Men ain't going to come in here if you start decorating in pink and selling fruit drinks." Bear scooted over one of the few unbroken stools left. "Hell, I wouldn't come in here to pick up women at all if they wanted me to obey rules. I'd go to the next bar over where nobody gives a shit how I talk or act."

  Katie frowned. "I think Bear's right. Women aren't that picky or stuck up. We just want to feel comfortable, knowing we have as much right to be at a bar, having a drink, as the men."

  "I can do that. If I have certain nights where women can buy one drink, get the second free, they'll come, right? That means men will come." She clapped her hands, motivation sparking. "When's the last time a woman has played darts or joined a pool competition?"

  "Uh, never." Katie laughed. "The miners and tourists hog all the entertainment."

  "Perfect." Desiree wiggled in victory. "How many guys would think it's sexy to watch a woman's pool tournament?"

  "Girlfriend, how many guys take you up on your pool games just to see you bend over?" Katie's eyes sparkled. "I can't play worth shit, but even I like putting on a show for the men if given half the chance. I don't even care if I lose."

  "I'm going to go write down all these ideas before I forget something." Desiree moved between Katie and Bear. "If you two think of anything else, let me know."

  Shut inside the office, the mood booster firmly grabbed on to Desiree and refused to let go. She wrote down ideas in a hurry, her energy rising. Twelve lines of suggestions finished, she leaned back in the chair, dizzy with positivity.

  The possibilities of bringing business to the bar only made her more determined to make Rail Point a success. She'd pay Merk back for all the money he spent on her and make it impossible for him to hold any power over her.

  As her thoughts settled and she relaxed, Pop's flannel red coat hanging in the corner of the room caught her eye. Her body deflated. How fast everything changed. One minute Pop was a constant in her life and the next, he was gone.

  While on the outside, they had the typical grandfather/granddaughter relationship with quiet talks, memorable moments, and love. More a father than a grandpa, he raised her and taught her how to grab life and hold on. He'd never let her get down about a setback. He'd tell her to move on and make the circumstances better.

  God, she missed him.

  "My heart hurts, Pop. I keep making excuses for Merk's actions and holding on to the reasons why he came back. All this time, I was a little girl relying on a fantasy, because believing someone out there connected with me and wanted to keep me safe brought me comfort," she whispered to an empty room, shaking her head in confusion. "I still feel safe with him. Even though every sign tells me I'm not."

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Jacko peered around the corner of the single-story house sitting on a rural road in Haugan, Montana. Merk kept his pistol in the back of his jeans, his spare gun in his boot. He'd planned on two visits today, and found both of his targets together at the same house.

  He questioned his luck.

  Even the location was perfect. The nearest house sat two miles away. He wouldn't need the suppressor for his pistol. Hunters and gun enthusiasts used the heavily wooded area year round. Nobody would even blink at the sound of a gunshot or two.

  "Diego and Miguel are both in the living room, kicking back over a baseball game. There's at least a six pack gone between them." Jacko pressed his back against the house.

  Merk viewed the same thing when he'd cased the house. "I could see the front door from the kitchen window in the back. There's no bar or barrier on the inside. Do you think you can kick it in?"

  "Yeah." Jacko glanced down at Merk's empty hands. "You okay?"

  "Perfect." Merk kept his muscles loose and limber. "It should only take us three minutes at the most to send the message."

  Jacko slid the safety off his pistol. "At least we don't have to cart the bodies away."

  Merk bent over, removed the nine millimeter from his boot, pulled back the mechanism cocking the gun, and thumbed the safety switch. He put the pistol in his left hand and removed his other gun. Mentally ready, he let his hands fall to the sides.

  From experience, he acknowledged after two minutes of holding his arms straight out in front of him, his aim would drop a half of an inch. Even a small movement could mean life or death for him. If he missed his kill shot by an inch, Reds would take their opportunity and he'd end up dead.

  "Let's do this." He led the way to the front of the house, ducking under the window.

  At the door, Jacko held his gaze and nodded. Merk mouthed, "One. Two. Three."

  Jacko kicked underneath the knob, breaking the casing around the door. Merk stepped inside the living room, arms raised, and red beams lighting the front of each man's shirt, directly where their hearts lay frantically beating.

  Diego rolled and sprang up on the side of the couch. "What the fuck?"

  Miguel raised his hands. "Jesus Christ. What's this shit about, man?"

  Merk stepped closer, motioned with his pistol for Diego to take a seat. Once the men faced him, side by side on the couch, he dissociated himself emotionally from the two men.

  "You." He glanced at Diego. "Pick up your cell phone from the coffee table and pull up the contact for Martin, and then set the phone back down.

  Diego leaned forw
ard slowly without taking his eyes off Merk. Merk followed his movements with the pistol in his left hand, while keeping his dominate hand and gun pointed to Miguel.

  Without looking behind him and verifying Jacko's position, he knew Jacko had his pistol aimed and ready to shoot.

  Diego turned the screen of the phone toward Merk. Merk nodded. "Put it down and sit back."

  "Madre de Dios," Diego mumbled.

  "Close your eyes." Merk lined up the shots. "Both of you."

  Diego's lips continued moving, the sound blocked from Merk's ears. He pulled the triggers simultaneously.

  Two heads fell forward. Blood pumped from their chests, staining their shirts. A twitch. A gurgle. Then the silence of death.

  Merk pocketed both the pistols, pulled his gloves out of his vest pocket, and picked up the phone.

  He typed in his message. Desiree Carlyle is Moroad MC property. This ends your contact with her.

  Merk hit send and placed the phone back on the coffee table. "We're finished."

  Jacko walked around the coffee table and stood in front of the dead men on the couch. Lost in his thoughts, Jacko tilted his head, and studied them.

  "Jacko? Let's go," Merk said.

  "Just a moment." Jacko bent down and picked up Diego's hand, placing it on Miguel's crotch. "That's better. Let's see what their amigos think of them now."

  Jacko could be a sick bastard when he wanted. Merk stepped away and followed Jacko out of the house, pulling the door shut, even though the latch no longer worked. Nobody driving by would notice anything out of the ordinary.

  He left the cleanup for Reds.

  Merk rode away from the house with Jacko at his side. Together, they took the on-ramp to Interstate 90. He let his thoughts go and set his throttle at seventy-three miles per hour to stay below the speed limit. It'd take him thirty minutes to get back inside the Idaho border, back in line with the rules stamped on his back.

  Forty more minutes before he had Desi beside him.

  The wind whipped his hair away from his face, forcing much needed oxygen in his lungs. He'd taken two lives to keep Desi safe. He'd take out more to make sure she stayed with him and nothing touched her. No one would get his hands on her as long as he stayed alive to stop them.