by KB Winters
“I never said it was.”
“But you implied it.” He stared at me again, waiting for a reaction but I had no reaction to give. The pain was so unbearable that I pushed down everything else, all of my thoughts and emotions that had nothing to do with my immediate plans. I couldn’t handle anything else.
Not even Savior.
“I’m not going to argue with you,” I said and picked up the plastic fork he’d provided.
“No? Then what are you going to do about your friend and Roadkill MC?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
“That’s not going to work, Pixie.” His gaze was hard and cold, deadly serious as he sat beside me with his own plate in his hands.
“Well it’s the best I can do, so you need to deal with it.” I dropped my fork on the plate in frustration. Eating left handed was difficult and leaning forward to do so only made the pain in my ribs worse. Fucking bikers.
“What about your job?”
I laughed bitterly. “What job?”
Landry had been only too happy to learn I wouldn’t be back but he wasn’t all laughs when he learned I’d been attacked in his parking lot. I could have told him I’d be long gone before I had a chance to sue but he didn’t deserve it. Let the fucker stew on it for a while.
“Shit, Mandy. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine with it.”
“What will you do for work?”
I shrugged, for some reason I couldn’t tell him the truth, that I would leave and find a job and a home in another city. I couldn’t tell him that I was starting over somewhere else and I didn’t know why. “Figure it out. It’s what I do.”
“And Roadkill? You can’t really think they’ll just let this go, even if you did something crazy like leave town they’d come and find you.”
I didn’t think that, but I couldn’t worry about it. “All they can do is kill me, Savior.”
“Don’t fucking say that!” He threw his half empty plate on the coffee table with a clatter as his voice echoed in the small room. “That’s not funny, Mandy. There’s no coming back from that.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“So this is what, some suicide mission?” He was angry and worried, but I didn’t need that from him. Not now.
“No, Savior. I have no desire to die but I can’t live my life worrying about them. I can’t control what they do, only what I do.”
“And what do you plan to do, Mandy?”
“Figure it out. I’ve got time.”
Twenty-eight days to be exact, but that was no one’s business but my own.
Chapter 20
Savior
I headed back to the clubhouse to find a quiet corner to get my head straight. Mandy was hiding something from me, but I didn’t know what. Not yet, anyway. But I’d figure it out. It was normal for her to feel scared and paranoid after what had happened to her but this was more than that. She didn’t want to see me, but not in an angry vengeful way. It was more that she was pulling away from me, withdrawing.
“Earth to Savior. What’s going on with you, man?”
I looked up at Cross who wore a worried look that pissed me off. I wasn’t some head case he needed to be concerned about. “Shit’s going on with me but maybe if you braid my hair and ask again, I’ll tell you.”
“Asshole. I know this is about what happened to Mandy and I hope you’re not planning to do anything stupid.”
Even if I wanted to, it would be pointless. She wouldn’t listen to me anyway. “I’m not fuckin’ planning anything.”
He stared at me, waiting for me to crack. But he’d have to wait a long fucking time. “You don’t want to talk? Fine. Just listen. Something is clearly going on with you two but you’re here at the clubhouse drinking in the middle of the goddamn day instead of being over there with her. She’s fucked up man, broken, bruised and battered. And alone. Again.”
“Yeah well, she doesn’t want me or my help. Thinks I’m her babysitter.”
“Have you told her any different?”
“Nah, it’s better this way anyway.”
“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.” Cross began to laugh and then he laughed harder, clapping me on the back as tears damn near streamed down his face. “How fucking stupid are you, man? You like her.”
I shook my head and reached for the bottle, pouring another shot.
“No, you’re right. You don’t like her, you love her.”
I barked out a laugh. “I’m not capable of that particular emotion, brother.”
“Tell that shit to someone who doesn’t know you. You might be hard as hell on the outside but you know how to love and you love hard. Guys like us, that’s how we do it. That’s how we can take up arms and fight for this country, fight for the Reckless Bastards. Our love runs deep.”
I took another sip of my drink, savoring the amber liquid as I tried to shake off his assessment of me. Not buying it. “Then maybe you ought to get out there and get some of that deep love so you stop trying to play the fucking matchmaker.”
He snorted, “If it was that fucking easy, I would. But what you want is right in front of you. If you stop being such a pussy and go after it.”
“Yeah, thanks Prez. Always a pleasure talkin’ to you.”
He laughed. “Asshole.”
“That’s what they call me.”
His bootsteps clattered loud on the hard floor as he walked away, probably back to his office where he spent all of his time. Hiding from life. Avoiding everything to do with living but the club.
But he was right about one thing, Mandy was injured and alone. No matter how much she didn’t want me around, she needed me. And I needed to be there for her.
No, I wanted to.
When I pulled into Mandy’s parking lot there was one of those big ass yellow charity trucks parked in my spot. Well, in her visitor’s spot, but I was so used to parking there it felt like mine. I parked in Mandy’s spot and went in search of the guys in blue coveralls, shocked to find them inside Mandy’s apartment. “What the hell is going on in here?” A prickle of unease slid down my back, making my skin pucker in awareness. I should have realized something was up when I took her parking space. She had no job and she was still injured, where in the hell was she?
A guy with curly blond hair who couldn’t have been more than twenty-one looked at me with a frown. “We got a call from the tenant and instructions to clear out some stuff. Is anything in here yours?”
I shook my head but still took the clipboard just to make sure this was Mandy’s doing and not someone else’s. It was her block writing, straight and efficient, with curt instructions.
“Nah, nothing here is mine. This was my friend’s place, you know?”
He flashed an understanding smile. “No worries, man. She left as soon as we got here.”
And it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she’d made good on her threat to leave Las Vegas. I’d thought it was an idle threat, something she blurted out when she was frustrated with her job, her life. Why didn’t she tell me she was serious? She left behind everything that was too big to carry, including her television, sofa and bed. She was traveling light, probably to put as much distance between her and Vegas and the Roadkill MC as possible.
The question was, where the hell would she go? Mandy could be any fucking where, headed anywhere and I had no clue where to start looking. “How long ago did she leave?”
The blond looked at his watch and frowned. “About thirty, maybe forty minutes ago. She left instructions and booked it out of here. Only let me carry her bag because I insisted.”
“And called her ma’am,” one of the other movers, a chubby guy with a red buzz cut said with a wide grin.
“Yeah, she didn’t appreciate it,” he confirmed with a sheepish grin that told me she’d probably used a few colorful words to express her displeasure.
“Thanks guys.” My boots pounded loudly on the concrete steps and I had my phone out, dialing t
he one person who might have an idea of where she might go, or even better, where she was headed. “Teddy, do you have any idea where Mandy would go if she was leaving town?”
“What?” Her voice screeched so loud I had to pull the damn phone back.
“Teddy, focus. I’m at her place now and the Salvation Army people are here taking all the shit she left behind. Do you know where she went?”
“Shit, I didn’t think she was serious. I haven’t talked to her in a few days. She hasn’t been answering my texts.” She went silent as if coming her memory. “You know, last time we did talk, she said maybe it was time she left Vegas. I thought it was the painkillers. She never said she was leaving though.” Teddy sounded just as frantic as I felt and that wasn’t helping. At all, dammit.
“And you didn’t tell me? What the fuck is going on?”
Teddy sighed and I could practically see her rolling her eyes even through the phone. “I don’t know, Savior. Maybe she wants to get away from, well, everything.”
Ouch. “Yeah, well that’s just too damn bad.” She would get my help and my protection, along with the rest of the Reckless Bastards. “If you think of anywhere she might go, let me know,” I told her and ended the call before she said another word. I hopped on my bike and headed to the clubhouse.
Right now, the only thing I needed was a drink and my brothers.
Chapter 21
Mandy
Why I decided that leaving the city while I still had broken and bruised bones was a good idea, I’d never know. More importantly, I had to question my own smarts when I chose to hop on the I-15 south to Los Angeles. It was a little over a four-hour drive and a few freeways and driving with one hand wasn’t the smartest plan I’d ever come up with, but at least I was still breathing.
LA was so damn expensive, plus, traffic was atrocious. On the other hand, it was a great place to get lost for a while. With millions of people in the city and more flooding the limits every day hoping to become the next big thing, I would be just another anonymous face in the crowd. That meant I could heal properly and figure out what came next.
If I ever made it. God, I was stupid to think I could. Not that making the best decisions was my forte or anything.
Pain seared through my midsection and shot up my arm all the way to my skull. After about a half hour of driving, it was so bad I pulled over and closed my eyes. Deep breathing wasn’t helping me right now. I contemplated taking a painkiller but I knew if I did I’d be zoned out in the scorching desert heat for hours. Chances were my little piece of shit car would overheat and I’d never get the hell out of here.
It took almost an hour of praying to whoever was up there and long deep breaths before the pain dropped from a nine to a six and I figured that was probably as good as it was going to get. If only I could get my body to listen, to sit up so I could strap the damn seatbelt back on and get back on the road. To yet another temporary stop on my way to my real life.
Whatever the hell that meant.
“Holy shit!” The tap on my window was loud and scared the hell out of me. I looked up and found Detective Haynes’ green eyes peering down at me through the window. When my heart finally decided to stop trying to kill me, I let the window down. “What can I do for you, detective?”
“Going somewhere?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, trying to escape the biker gang that beat me to a pulp. It may be hard for you to remember since you guys don’t give a shit.” He flashed that annoyed cop look that did nothing to stop my frustration.
“We need to talk to you, Ms. Sutton.” His voice might have scared me if cops didn’t always use that tone to get their way. So I said nothing.
“Preferably at the station.”
I nodded and tried to get out of the car, but it was harder than getting in, with the steering wheel in the way. I finally made it out with a triumphant groan and turned back to get my phone, hissing out the pain as I reached across the seat to the center console.
“Got it.”
I grinned like I’d accomplished something really big, but I turned and found Haynes with his gun aimed at me and froze. My grin was gone and so was any goodwill I had for the man.
When he saw my phone he holstered his gun. Did he really think I was going to unload a pistol on him?
“We’ll have a uni come and get your car.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll drive myself.”
He sighed. “That’s really not necessary.”
“Well considering how twitchy you are, I think it is. So either I drive myself or I don’t go.”
The younger detective finally stepped from the car, his smarmy grin making me want to punch him in his weasel face. “You’re coming with us,” he insisted firmly.
I ignored him, my gaze staying on Haynes. “Am I under arrest or being detained?”
“No, we’re not arresting you. We have some questions. As well as a few concerns about your safety.”
“Then, I’ll be right behind you.” He gave a reluctant nod and tried one more time, but I brushed him off. “Someone must be dead if you’re suddenly giving a shit about me.”
His lack of response kept me on high alert, shaken and anxious the entire ride back to LVMPD. I was tired, sweaty and in too much pain to even contemplate things like manners and being polite. I parked on the street and stepped out, looking up at the white building. I’d rather be anywhere else than walk inside, yet I crossed the street where Haynes waited for me.
His bushy eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you all right?”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Detective. Let’s just get this over with.” I followed him inside the precinct, buzzing with activity, or at least seeming to do so. They were probably letting all the calls go to voicemail and playing solitaire or on Facebook. The room was so bare and stereotypical it had to be an interrogation room. I sat gingerly on the edge of one of the hard metal chairs that had a fucking wobble.
“So what is it you want with me? I have places to go and people to see.”
He sighed and waited a long minute until Detective Napoleon Complex joined us. “Where were you last night?”
“At home, where I’ve been for the past nine days. Recovering. And no, there’s no one to confirm that.” I really wished I could have crossed my arms, so I could glare at them and let both men know they didn’t scare me.
“That’s too bad,” Dodds said and slid several pictures across the table. Pictures of a woman with stringy black hair, grey jeans and a lacy black tank top. With her face beaten and swollen the way it was, she could have been anyone. But the hummingbird tattoo between her thumb and forefinger, and the Claddagh ring on her right hand with the sapphire birthstone inside told me exactly who it was.
“Krissy. What happened to her?” I looked at Haynes because dealing with the rookie might end up with me in handcuffs.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Anything you want to tell us?” Dodds leaned forward, smacking his hand on the lopsided metal table.
“I have a few things I’d like to tell you, little man.”
He was on his feet, leaning over the table in seconds, his face red, spit flying out of his mouth as he called me every name he could think of. No matter what he said, though, he couldn’t intimidate me. I barked back at him, “If this is how you treat crime victims, I’ll be sure to let everyone know.”
Pushing off the table with my left hand, I stood and stared down at Haynes, shaking my head.
“We both know you’re no fucking victim, Mandy.” He spat my name out like it left a bad taste on his tongue. “Tell us what happened and maybe you won’t end up in prison for the rest of your life.”
I laughed. “I’ll tell you two things, Officer Dodd. One,” I held up my left forefinger, “if I could swing a punch right now, it would be worth the assaulting an officer charge. Two, I’m leaving.”
“I don’t think so.” He blocked my path and my left hand bunched and flexed, aching to knock his little
ass out.
“So I’m being arrested? Great.” I took a step back and smiled. “Lawyer.”
Haynes groaned because I knew he’d been trying to avoid it. Cops hated when you exercised your rights. “Don’t leave town, Ms. Sutton.”
“Whatever. Try not to get me killed while you guys do your job, if you remember what that is.”
I stared at Dodds until he moved out of my way, yanking the door open so it smacked against the painted concrete wall and marched out.
Fucking cops, useless. I made my way back to the car and fished my phone out of my purse, not easy with only one hand available to me, my other sweltering in the cast. Before I could start my car I had to make the call to the one person I knew would help without asking too many questions.
“Hey, Teddy, I need a favor.”
***
Looking around the lavishly appointed office, complete with a Renoir on the walls, I felt completely out of my depth and pretty sure that this was the dumbest shit I’d ever done. I was either about to make a deal with the devil or take control of my life. What possessed me to walk into Siren Resort & Casino and demand to speak with the owner and CEO, Drake Foster, I hadn’t a clue. I could blame the painkillers or the late-night staring at the mute TV in my motel room, delusions of grandeur or just plain fucking survival. But the truth was, this was it. My only shot. Two days had passed since the cops told me not to leave town and they hadn’t said anything more about it.
They were no fucking help. Roadkill MC would kill me before the cops pulled their heads out of their respective asses.
“It’s pretty ballsy of you to come in here like this, considering.”
Drake studied me, and I studied him right back. He was a handsome guy, in a mobbed-up kind of way with dark hair he wore slicked back, beautiful skin a deep olive tone that said he spent more time on his yacht than in a windowless casino. He had big brown eyes with large flakes of gold and green, the five-thousand-dollar suit bringing the green to the forefront. But as beautiful as they were, his eyes were cold. And hard.