Extreme Measures

by Kimmie Easley

  “I think this entire deal leans in your favor. We’re even giving you a better deal on the hardware than you’re getting with the Diablos. The H you’ll get from us is a hell of a lot better than that shit from the Pistol Kings. Besides, we’re carrying most of the risk. All you do is caravan to Mexico on mission trips.”

  “We can offer a better deal on protection too,” Clint tacks on.

  “Do we get a say in shipment details? We can’t just get up and take off across the border on a whim.” Mustache guy is a real gabber.

  Pastor Klein chimes in. “I’m sure we would have a set schedule, right?”

  “What’s with all the detail bullshit?” Billy pounds a fist on the table. “Don’t you think staying alive works as far as information you need to know to make an informative decision?”

  “Are you threatening us?” A third man jumps to his feet.

  “Well, I guess we’re in then.”

  I cut my gaze over at Billy before responding to the Pastor. “Wise decision, preacher.”

  “And if the rest of us don’t agree?” A tall Mr. Rogers looking mother fucker with actual elbow patches on his long-sleeve sweater jumps up to his shiny loafers.

  “Sit down, Ralph.” Mustache falls to his chair.

  “Don’t tell me to sit down!”

  Pastor Klein slaps an open palm on the table showing his true colors. “You will sit, and you’ll do it now. In case you haven’t figured it out by now, we don’t have much of a say in the situation. Mr. Steele isn’t speaking in a damn foreign language. We buy from them and no one else. Period. Don’t you realize they mean business? Real, life or death business?”

  The bold admission makes me take a step back. “Damn, not speaking in a foreign language, indeed. And yes, your pastor here speaks the truth.”

  “I guess we’re in.”

  *

  “Tell, Keller I’m here to talk weapons.” I stand with my legs straddled wide, staring at the little, ball of fur. He wears a prospect’s cut and his scraggly hair is down past his shoulders, hanging in chunks over her eyes.

  He bows his chest, but I ignore the aggressive move, however Herc’s another story.

  “It’s alright, big guy.” I look back to the punk. “Now, son.”

  He backs away before turning to vanish into the Diablo’s clubhouse. He returns with not only Keller quick on his heels, but a handful of soldiers to back him up.

  “You’re in Diablo territory. You better be lost.” Keller smashes through the gathered crowd of leather vests, all sporting the Diablos colors. “If not, allow me to show you the way out.”

  “Tell your men to stand down, Keller. I have business to discuss.”

  The muscles in his neck tense as he eyeballs me. “Two on two.”

  I jerk my head toward Clint, signaling for him to follow behind. The Diablos choose their VP as well, and the three of us follow Keller into the garage.

  “Make it quick,” he demands.

  “I want you to know you’re done selling to the church.”

  His VP smirks, and I fight the urge to put him in his place. “You might wanna be more specific.”

  I step forward as adrenaline rushes my blood stream. “Oceanside. Klein. You’re done.”

  “Why would we agree to that?”

  “Because it’s a smart move.”

  Keller scoffs, tossing his head back. “I think you might be confused.” He bucks his VP’s grasp from his shoulder, shaking him away like an annoying dog.

  “Look, the Executioners are taking over the business. We’ll leave you to run Camp Pendleton, but Oceanside is ours.” Now, I’m the one stepping closer. I roll my stiff neck. “Let me tell you why you’ll do this. You know I’ll start a war, and you’re sitting at half the bodies since the arrest in Vegas a while back. You’re not prepared, and we will win. And when we do, I’ll take Pendleton with me.”

  “Where are you gonna get your hardware from? You guys don’t run an operation of that size.”

  “Well, that’s none of your business. And I don’ really care if you agree or not, because it’s going to happen regardless of your opinion. It’s just up to you how we go about it.”

  *

  It was a long night of celebrating with our San Clemente brothers. Today could have gone down a whole lot differently, but Keller made the right decision.

  It shocked the shit out of all of us.

  As I pull up to The Clubhouse, I notice it’s extra packed. I don’t know what Jessa’s been doing to pick up business, but whatever it is, it’s working.

  “Looks like it’s a good night for the books.”

  Bear is standing point, and my stomach lurches when I inhale the BBQ smoke.

  “What’s going on?” I ask the prospect.

  “Maybe you should ask your VP?”

  I furrow my strong brow, eyeing Clint. He rolls his dark eyes and releases the air in his lungs.

  “How’d the bitches find out?”

  “Find out what?” I question.

  “That Patsy and I got married.”

  “What the fuck? When?”

  Clint, the Peacekeeper tries to smooth over any butt hurt feelings. “Yesterday, you know we just didn’t want to bother anyone with a wedding. We just wanted to be married.”

  “Well, brother, it looks like you’re about to have a reception.”

  “Roger that,” Bear confirms.

  “Hey, baby! I guess you’ve heard by now.” Jolene’s eyes blaze with desire as soon as she sees me, and it makes my dick twitch. I’d give damn near anything to be alone with her right now. I need her, all of her, after a night away from home.”

  “Yeah, just now. You guys did good, sugar. Did you know? Come on, be honest.”

  “Hell, no! But when we found out, Jessa went a little wedding crazy.” She says, gazing around.

  “Yeah, Bear too, it looks like.” I scan the bar. “Where’s Brendan?”

  “He helped set up and then asked if he could hang out with some friends.”

  I wave my hands through the air. “Was that really a good idea? I mean, if he was getting in trouble all the time, it’s probably because of the company he keeps.”

  She tilts her head to the left and twitches her lips. “Hey, I’m not exactly an idiot. These are new friends. People he met in Jericho.”

  “I guess that’s ok. Give him a curfew?”

  “He’ll be back by midnight.”

  I smile underneath my unruly beard. The long ride took a hard toll on the whiskers. I draw her to me, enveloping her up in my still vibrating arms. “That’s my girl.”

  I grab a cold beer, using it as a chaser for the row of shots Jessa has lined up for me. I knock every one of them back and nod for a refill.

  “Set ‘em up.”

  “Rough ride?” Jolene asks. “Everything go ok?” She sucks the suds off the top of her beer.

  “Actually, everything went great.” I center a solid kiss on the top of her delicious head. “I’m just glad to be home.”

  “And I’m glad to have you home.”

  We spend the next couple of hours eating and drinking, celebrating Patsy and Clint and their new commitment.

  Patsy’s a real old lady now. She’s stepping into the role too, dressing in a white, short dress and boots, tangled up in Clint’s arms on the small dance floor.

  The door swings wide, breaking up the celebratory spirit. “Where is he?”

  “Who?” I hear someone shout.

  “Gun!” Another yell breaks out from the crowd.

  Clint jumps in front of Patsy. I do the same to Jolene, shoving her behind my back when Stoner lands in front of me.

  Herc and the others rush the front door.

  A female screams out, “Get down!”

  With Jolene pressed to my spine, I snake through the crowd. “Val?”

  Her thin frame is on the ground with Herc’s gigantic boot perched at her throat.

  “Let her up.” I demand.

  Herc releases
his hold but not before Stoner secures the weapon she was flailing above her head.

  Troy snatches the female up from the floor, lifting her up to her feet.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I want my son back.”

  Jolene places an arm on Val’s shoulder. “Let’s go to the office.”

  She pops her eyes wide and huge. “Is he back there?”

  “He’s not here.”

  “You’re lying!” Val shouts, and I recognize the territorial glint in Jo’s gaze.

  “I’m not, but even if he was here, you couldn’t see him. You’re not gonna come in here and confuse him. Not when he’s finally on a good track.”

  “He’s my kid,” she yells, prompting Patsy and the bitches to step out, surrounding her.

  “You have to leave.”

  “Not without my boy.”

  I bend down to peer into my own mother’s haunting stare. Her blue eyes are dilated and wide. She doesn’t blink, and I see she’s stoned.

  “What are you on?”

  She recoils as if she’d just been slapped. “Nothing.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re high, stoned outta your fucking mind.”

  “I had a few beers is all.”

  Jolene huffs and folds her arms over her chest, like a tight bundle of dynamite.

  “Duke, get her outta here. Take her to this address.” I pull out my phone and text him the address. “The sooner, the better.”

  *

  As if she could handle anything else tonight, Jolene’s been trying to call Brendan ever since 12:05. It’s two hours later, and he still hasn’t shown up.

  “Ronin, I’m seriously worried.”

  “Don’t be, he’s a kid. A punk kid at that. He’s just pushing our limits.”

  “What if your mother found him?”

  I shake off the idea that makes me sick to my stomach. “We just have to wait him out, sugar.”

  She shakes her sweet pea scented ponytail. “I don’t like this. My gut is all twisted up.”

  “Come on, babe,” I start, pulling her down onto my lap as the party rages on downstairs. “If he doesn’t show up soon, we’ll go looking for him, ok?”

  Jolene nods, and I cover her lips with mine.

  If that little bastard isn’t back by morning...

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jolene

  It’s been sixteen hours and counting. I can’t sit still because my insides burn with dread. Ronin and the boys left out for a long haul, and we’ve still heard nothing from Brendan.

  I try to stay busy by mopping the sticky, bar floor after last night’s shindig. I’m wringing out the mop when my cell vibrates in my jeans. I pull the phone from my back pocket, and hope floods my chest.

  “Hello?” I answer, and my hopeful expression fades.

  “You’re receiving a collect call from the Jericho Police Department.”

  I accept the charges, and my throat constricts.

  “Jolene?”

  “Brendan, you’re in jail?”

  “Yes, please come get me. Please. I don’t belong here.”

  “I’m on my way.” I shove my phone deep in my pocket. “I’m running out,” I yell across the bar to my sister.

  “What’s up?” She asks, and I bolt for my keys. His words repeating in my head. Please, I don’t belong here.

  “Brendan’s in jail. The kid’s scared to death.”

  She slaps a hand on the counter. “Maybe he should be. If it were me, I’d leave him there.”

  “Well, it’s not up to you.”

  She doesn’t answer, and I slam the door behind me.

  I try to call Ronin, but he doesn’t answer. I run into the police station where I spend the next two hours filling out forms, and then going over said forms. Counting cash, and recounting cash.

  “I’m also Mr. Baird’s attorney. What are the charges?”

  “Um, looks like,” the officer says as he scans the computer. “Vandalism charge. Destruction of property. He and some friends threw a brick through the window at D&K Diner.”

  My stomach flips.

  I don’t belong here.

  “Everything else, you’ll need to find out at the hearing Tuesday. Go ahead and sign here for the kid’s belongings. You are his parental guardian, correct?”

  “Yes.” I dig through my oversized bag, grasping for the slip of paper. “Here’s the P.O.A.”

  The man nods, reading and passing it back to me.

  I sign the register, and the cop places a plastic bag on the counter.

  “You know, the kid shouldn’t be on the streets with that kind of money.”

  I get ready to ask the man what he’s talking about when I spot it, recognizing the blue, zipper money bag as the same one from the office at the bar.

  We drive home in silence because I’m at a loss for words. Brendan climbs the stairs, disappearing behind the locked, bedroom door. I decide to let him sleep after the long night in jail. It’s going to be an even longer conversation when he gets up.

  “Girl, you’re gonna have to get that boy’s head on straight before Ronin does.” Jessa tops off my coffee mug.

  “Yeah, I hear that.”

  “Any chance of sending him back?”

  “Hell, no! He’s been tossed around and thrown away enough already. He needs to know someone has his back.”

  “And the bank deposit?”

  I give a weighted sigh. “I don’t know. I’m just sick about it. And to make matters worse, I have to go back to court.”

  My sister giggles at my annoyance. “Oh, come on. You’ve missed those fancy pantsuits.”

  “Shut up.” I stick my tongue out in defiance.

  Bonnie pokes her head in the office door. “Hey, can I get a hand?”

  “Sure, but where’s Tammy?”

  “Off with Herc again. Those two seem real chummy lately.” Bonnie twists her lips into a smirk. “And Patsy’s on her mini-honeymoon.”

  “I’m still shocked about that one,” Jessa says.

  Now, it’s my turn to pick at her. “I don’t know who will marry next. You and Bear or Tammy and Herc.”

  She doesn’t find the comparison as funny, which only makes me laugh harder. “Seriously, though, you guys are a really great couple, Jessa. You’re good for each other.”

  Bonnie leans against the door frame, cocking out a curvy hip. “Yeah, he’s a real catch. And so are you, girl.”

  The compliment brings a smile to my sister’s tanned face, and her blue eyes sparkle.

  It’s real love.

  “I just wish I could win over his girls. I’ve tried everything, and the oldest is still being a little snot to me.”

  “Hey, I’ll trade you little snots!”

  She tilts her head and gives me a squinty side eye. “No, I think I’ll pass.”

  The three of us double over in a fit of giggles when Tammy strolls in the door, running her fingertips through loose tangles. It makes the rest of us belly laugh so hard that Bonnie nearly pisses herself from the infectious laughter.

  “Shit!” She says, shuffling off to the bathroom.

  *

  “Court? Are you serious?” Ronin stalks, pacing the length of the bedroom. So much for a welcome home gift.

  “Yeah, in the morning. There’s something else.”

  “Do I even wanna know?”

  I cross the room and stick my fingers through his belt loops. “It looks like he also stole the bank bag from the bar. It had to be when we were having the wedding reception, before his curfew.”

  “I’ll kick his ass,” he says in a loud growl.

  “No, that’s not going to happen, and before you ask, we’re not taking him back either. Let’s just get through court before addressing the money, ok?”

  I notice Ronin’s heavy gaze land on the power suit hanging off the mirror. “You really think it’s a good idea for you to defend him?”

  “It’s the only idea.” I curl up in the bed, pulling the thick comf
orter over me, stripping away the day’s clothes. I pat the spot on the bed next to me, and he complies.

  I drag my nails along his bare, muscular back.

  “I just don’t want us to get in over our heads,” he says in a slightly calmer tone.

  “We’re not, babe. Trust me. You remember how fierce Ruth was when it came to you? How she backed you at every turn. Sure, you weren’t such a little terror, but that just proves my point that he needs us. And keep in mind, you were still a bit of a handful.”

  His eyes dance as he gazes at me.

  “What?” I ask with a giggle wedged tight in my throat. There’s something about the way he looks at me.

  “Yes, my queen.”

  *

  I clasp the top button on my satin blouse, tucking it into my waistband. Ronin’s in the shower, and he’s prepping to head back to Oceanside.

  Brendan’s sitting up to the kitchen island shoving cereal into his yap.

  “You about ready?”

  He shrugs, and I double check his court attire.

  “You look sharp, good job.” I think he’s ignoring me, but then, I notice him smooth a wrinkle out of his pants.

  We ride downtown just like we road home from the police department.

  In silence.

  I struggle with the high heels and long sleeves. It’s been a while, and I hate that I’m uncomfortable. It fucks with my confidence.

  “You remember everything we went over?”

  He shrugs. “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  He rolls his light eyes, following it up with a yes ma’am.

  “Thank you. Good manners will go a long way.”

  Once we’re inside, I notice the way he tugs at his collar. He’s breathing picks up pace.

  “You ok?”

  He nods, but nothing sarcastic follows.

  I point to the chair, and Brendan takes a seat. I’m waiting, surveying notes and going over my strategy. That’s when I see Mr. Garner, the prosecutor, out of the side of my eye.

  “Ms. Miller, it’s great to see you back in the courtroom.”

  “Hello, Mr. Prosecutor. I had no idea you were the one trying this case. What am I looking at?”