Extra cash and lying about his activities made him top on my list of suspects. Problem was, my list of suspects was now one name: Bear. In my experience, it’s usually the obvious answer, but I couldn’t count on it. There was a hell of a lot riding on this and I needed to make sure I had the right guy.
“Seems pretty cut and dried.” I rolled my pencil on the flat surface of the table. It didn’t roll back. Totally level. “Just cut off the head of the snake. You don’t have to join the Horde just to fix a skimmer.” I wanted to hear his justification.
Tate sighed. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not twenty years old anymore. Hell, I’m not forty years old anymore. We’re a small club in a changing world. We do well enough for ourselves, but the country is consolidating, isn’t it? We haven’t had blowback yet, but I don’t want there to be a day when my boys close up shop because I didn’t make alliances when I should have.”
It was true. The MC world was changing. The little clubs could no longer survive against a membership that was a thousand strong.
“Is everyone on board with the patch-over?” I asked. That could kill the club too.
Tate nodded. “We need to find the traitor and eliminate him. Assuming Bear is the guilty party, you win everyone’s support and we patch over smooth as a baby’s ass. If we can’t find the skimmer, Bear will splinter the group and the patch-over won’t happen. My club will die.”
He poured himself some coffee. “So, your turn. Why’d they choose you? It’s usually club officers to negotiate these kinda deals.”
Shit. I shrugged. “I’m not an officer. I was hoping to be, before I fucked everything up.” I had to tell him, had to reveal my shame. “I’m here because it’s a test. I need to find your skimmer and patch you guys in. If I don’t, I’m out. Pretty simple stuff, really.”
Tate leaned both his elbows on the table. “You must have screwed up big-time if they put you on a fail and bail kinda test.”
“Yeah, I did. I trusted the wrong person and some of my brothers ended up in jail, and me too.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “So, this time I’m gonna do it right. We’re gonna find out who is stealing club funds and patch you guys in, because I’m not losing my club.”
* * *
We spent the day driving to various pay to park lots while Tate explained their business. It was late afternoon by the time we stopped for gas about ten minutes from the clubhouse.
Tate and I pulled up on each side of the pump when he threw something at me. “It’s for you.”
I looked at the little cell phone. It was a standard-issue burner flip phone. And it was ringing.
“You put her on the back of your bike last night. Didn’t have a choice then, but you got one now.” Tate shrugged.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m just here temporarily. Go play matchmaker somewhere else, old man.”
The phone stopped ringing. I cranked my arm back to toss it back when the fucking phone started to ring again. She wasn’t going away.
Fuck it. I answered.
“Hello?”
“Oh, um. I’m looking for Tate. Do I have the wrong number?”
There was loud music playing in the background. Fuck. It was now or never. I had put her behind me on my bike, and now she was mine. All of her problems, needs, concerns—they were all mine to resolve.
“This is Colt. What’s up?”
She paused. “I wanted to ask if I could work a few hours tonight. I’ll have Becky with me, but I could really use the extra cash. I need to know now, because I need to know which bus to take.”
“Yeah. Come to the clubhouse.” Even with the cash flow problem, it wouldn’t hurt Tate’s bottom line if she worked a couple of hours overtime. Besides, I wanted to see her. “Where are you now?”
“At the repair shop. They needed to order the glass, so it won’t be done for three more days.”
I imagined my sister and her kid, ten years old, stuck riding the bus. Buses in Southern California were hot as hell and full of gang members. The poor thugs who couldn’t afford cars were the most dangerous. A woman and child alone were easy targets.
“Wait. Stay put. I’ll come get you.” I flipped the phone closed. Shit. I couldn’t fit both of them on the back of my bike again and I had left my truck in California.
Tate was grinning at me. Fuck.
“I need to borrow a car.”
Chapter Four
Krista
The whole day had been a nightmare. We were late for the bus, so I had to pay for a taxi to get Becky to school on time. The auto repair shop took so long to get everything ordered, I had to leave in the middle of it all to go pick up Becky. Four bus transfers and a couple more miles of walking later, I was exhausted and Becky was cranky.
Colt showed up at the auto shop in Tate’s old beater truck. The brown pickup had been kicking around the clubhouse lot for as long as I could remember. The seats were torn, the clutch was sticky, and it smelled vaguely of mold. It was heaven.
“Thank you for the ride.” I poked Becky. Along with not using swear words, we’d been working on being polite. Pleases, thank yous, you’re welcomes.
“Thank you for the ride,” she repeated. “Will you take me to dance lessons on your bike tomorrow, Mr. Colt? Please? It’s at three thirty, I can’t be late.”
So much for manners. I sighed. “Mr. Colt has things to do tomorrow. He can’t take us all around town. You’re just gonna have to miss dance until we can get the car fixed.”
I kissed the top of her head to try and soften the blow. Becky loved her tap class. Ballet had been too boring, but tap allowed her to make noise with her feet. She was in love.
Colt had been quiet throughout most of the ride. That was fine by me; I still wasn’t sure what to say. He was going out of his way to help me, but I wasn’t his problem. He was from another motorcycle club, yet he was hanging around with the Storm Kings while most of the guys were away on a run. It was all very odd, and I didn’t want to get in the middle of things. The best thing for me was to stay the hell out of club politics. Creating enemies was a way of alienating my customers, and that was the last thing I needed.
“But I wanna go to dance.” Becky pouted and crossed her arms.
“I can take her tomorrow. If it’s all right with you?”
Colt had spoken quietly, deliberately. He stared straight ahead as we pulled into the gates of the club. I couldn’t read this man and it was bothering me.
“Please, Mommy?”
“We’ll see.” There was nothing else I could say. I wasn’t about to promise anything. He was better than Robby by far, but still, he would probably forget about his promise to a six-year-old girl just as soon as he fired up his Harley. By tomorrow he’d be out doing whatever it is that bikers do and Becky would be disappointed that she’d missed dance. If it were in my power, I would wrap her in cotton and silk so that all of life’s sorrows would bounce off her. But that wasn’t possible. She would just have to be angry and sad tomorrow when he didn’t show.
We piled out of the truck and into the clubhouse. I had to do something about dinner for Becky and then start cleaning. With the boys gone for the next few days, I’d need to make as much money as possible. Cleaning, cooking, more cleaning. I would do whatever qualified for Tate to pay me my hourly wage. It wouldn’t make up for the lost income from blow jobs and sex, but at least it was something.
Besides, I needed to save up a little money. I sighed and rolled my shoulders. It might be rocky starting a new job, and a little extra cash would go a long way. Especially when I hadn’t found that new job yet. I’d sent out a few resumes when I first graduated, but no bites yet. I needed to step up my search.
“Come on, sweetie, why don’t you change into your jammies and maybe we can find a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I’ll put on the
TV for you while I’m cleaning.”
I got Becky changed and settled on a barstool and turned on the television that was mounted on the wall. There wasn’t much to choose from. The club ordered the extended sports channels—and the porn packages, of course—but cartoons weren’t really high on their list. After flipping around, I found some Brady Bunch reruns. Becky didn’t understand half of the jokes, but at least she wouldn’t try emulating any fight moves. She had gotten into trouble at school after I found her watching the UFC championship while I was doing dishes.
I turned to find Colt settled on the barstool next to Becky. They were both equally engrossed in the opening song.
“I ordered a pizza.” He took a long drag on his beer. “Pepperoni okay?”
“I like pizza!” Becky began to list the toppings that she liked on her pizza. Pepperoni was first on the list. Her little feet were moving in time to the music on the show.
He gave me a small smile and went back to watching the show with my kid. Christ, when he smiled he was sexy as hell. It was like a slow burn across his lips, until his face changed from cold to smoldering. I wanted to hop across the bar and trace that smile with my tongue.
I clutched at the wooden bar top to keep myself upright. Lust. Arousal. This was all-powerful stuff, how had I forgotten that? It had been so long since I had felt anything for a man.
“You want different toppings? I can call and change it.”
Those gorgeous lips had moved. Oh, right. I snapped out of it. “No, no, pepperoni is fine.”
I headed back to the kitchen. I always kept the bar in pristine condition, but it had been a while since I had deep cleaned anything in the kitchen. I focused on boiling out the deep fat fryer and trying to ignore the hot biker currently watching a sitcom with my daughter.
This goddamn lust was killing me. I was the girl who didn’t get involved, who didn’t bring her personal life to work. Except my personal life was singing the Brady Bunch theme song loud enough for me to hear from inside the vent hood.
My arms ached from cleaning the overhead. I let them drop to my sides and sat on top of the cold stove. Colt wasn’t even a member of the Storm Kings. He was from a club in Southern California. That was a lifetime away from Tacoma. Something had to be brewing and he was in the middle of it. I reminded myself to stay out of club politics.
After finishing the vent hood and the deep fat fryer, I washed my hands and packed away the cleaning supplies. I smelled like old french fries and I was ready for a shower—in my own apartment.
Coming out of the kitchen, I stopped for a second, stunned. At some point while I was cleaning, Colt had dragged one of the old couches in front of the bar. Becky was curled up asleep next to him while he drank a beer and watched the news. It was all very domestic, almost homey. I wanted to curl up next to Colt too.
I needed to stop this silly dreaming. First thing tomorrow, we would have a talk. He was a nice guy, but I had to send him on his way. If I didn’t I was going to get hurt.
“Come on, Becks, time to go home.” I shook her a little and she mumbled her way awake.
“You’re not staying here?” He looked up at me and frowned.
He wanted me to stay there? With him? My heart started to pound.
“Uh, no. We need to get back. The last bus comes by in about twenty minutes, so we need to get going.” Earlier I had already packed our gear and piled it by the door. I just needed to stop fantasizing about a future that would never happen and get my sleepy kid to the bus stop.
“I’ll take you. You shouldn’t be riding the bus at this time of night. It’s not safe.”
He stood up and we stared at each other. I wasn’t sure how tall he was, but he was big. I wasn’t short, but next to him I felt tiny. He had taken off his cut and was wearing a gray T-shirt that stretched tight across his chest. His delicious, strong, cut chest. Shit. I tore my eyes away and looked up into his face.
God knew I wanted a ride, and not in the shitty brown truck. I wanted a guy who cared about me. I wanted a man who thought about me when he was touching my breasts, not about how much he was paying me for the experience. I wanted to hear my name. It sounded so good when he said it. I wanted to hear him say my name as we made love. I wanted to make love. With him.
But I didn’t make love, I turned tricks. I had to protect myself. If I fell in love, there was going to be no way I could do my job and there would be no way I could support Becky. Love was not a luxury I could afford.
“A ride home would be great.”
Chapter Five
Colt
Krista carried the sleeping kid into the warm truck. Damn, it was cold. September in Southern California was hot and dry, but up here in Washington it was cold and damp. Becky was tucked into Krista’s arms with a blanket wrapped around both of them, but I cranked the heater up to full blast anyway.
“Mommy.” Becky’s nose peeked out from the blanket. “I wanna go to Grandma’s house.”
I slowed down. “I can take you to your mom’s place if you want.”
Krista shook her head. “No, we’re fine. The apartment is fine.”
“But, it’s real close.” Becky pointed. I made a left onto a side street.
“Really, let’s just get back on the main road.” Krista sighed. “I’ll take you tomorrow, okay, honey? I’m sure Colt is tired and wants to go to sleep too. He’s done enough for us.”
The awful truth was that I wanted to do more. I wanted to take care of these two like they were my own. “Let’s go tonight. I’m sure your mom won’t mind.”
“Please, Mommy?”
Krista was quiet. “If it’s okay with Colt.”
Anything that kept me close to them longer was okay. “Tell me where to turn.”
Three turns later and we were there. It was dark, only a couple of streetlights, but it was lined with old houses. They all looked the same, stamped right from the same mold. Forties, probably. The same little square of lawn interrupted by a sidewalk that led up to the front stoop.
“Just stop right here.”
I stopped and turned to get out of the car. Krista would need help getting out with Becky. But I felt her hand tug on my sleeve.
“We just sit in the car.” I couldn’t see much of Krista’s face in the dark, but her eyes sparkled. She turned to Becky.
“See, baby, there’s Grandma’s house. That’s where I grew up. We’re gonna work real hard and one day we’ll have a house too. We’ll have a house and a yard, and a fireplace for Santa.”
This was my first time out with them, but I had a feeling Krista had said this speech a hundred times before. She recited it, almost like poetry. Becky listened quietly, and eventually fell asleep.
Krista turned to me. “We can head out. She just wanted a look. My grandma died five years ago. There’s no one to visit.”
I nodded. Interesting—I got to hear her hopes and dreams through an unusual bedtime story. “Where’s your mom?”
Krista shifted Becky on her lap. “I don’t know. She never stuck around much. When Grandma died, I married Robby.” She stared off into the distance and then whispered, “I was pregnant with his kid and desperate. I had this idea that he’d grow up and be a good father and well, you know what happened.”
We sat in silence for a while. Seemed like she was pretty alone in life.
Alone enough to steal from her employer?
She didn’t seem like the type, but she had access to Tate’s bookkeeping ledgers. Hell, my judgment had never been the best with women.
“You’re good with Becky,” Krista whispered. “You have any of your own?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
Krista closed her eyes and kissed Becky’s blanket-covered head. She didn’t look at me.
I
studied her. Even in the dark of the car, she was beautiful. Blond hair, high cheekbones, freckles on her nose. Every teenager’s wet dream of the girl next door. I swear to god, she stepped right out of my fourteen-year-old imagination.
“Nephew. He’s ten. Rides on my bike with me around the neighborhood. My sister would hate it if she knew.”
I had done it—a little tiny corner of her mouth kicked up in a little smile.
“It’s good that you spend time with him.” She sighed and kissed Becky again. “Sometimes I wish Robby would pay attention to her. But usually, I’m glad he doesn’t, ya know?”
“I could have another talk with him.” I shrugged. “Make sure he stays away. Maybe you could get a restraining order.”
She shook her head and went back to staring out the window. “A restraining order just makes him angry. The cops can’t watch me all day and all night, so they’re no help. Besides, I work for an MC. I can’t have deputies hanging around. You’ve already helped with Robby; he won’t come around for a while. You don’t need to get involved.”
She was right, I didn’t need to get involved. I wanted to. Krista was a lot like my sister. She was a resourceful single mom, doing what she could to keep her family together. I felt like I already knew her.
Or maybe it was all an act. She could be stealing from the club to support Robby. I needed to ask Tate more about Krista’s relationship with her ex. See what I could find out about him. I know she didn’t want my interference, but if Robby came sniffing around again, he was gonna have another conversation with my fists.
Headlights from a car flashed in my rearview mirror and someone parked in the driveway of her grandma’s house.
“Let’s go. It’s stupid, but it hurts seeing the new people who live there.”
* * *
We rode in silence until we pulled up to Krista’s apartment.
“Thanks for the ride. I’m sorry about earlier. I used to do that when she was a baby so she’d go to sleep, and we just never stopped.” She shrugged. “Anyway, thanks.” Krista shifted Becky as she tried to reach for the door handle.
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