by KB Winters
Men had proven a disappointment in the long run so when I happened upon one, I never kept them for very long. It was easier that way. For everyone. A buzzing sounded in the distance and it took me a moment to realize I still had guests inside the gallery.
“Moon are you all right? Did you hear me?” Jana’s hand grabbed my shoulder and I looked down at her. “Your phone, it’s ringing. Has been for a while,” she added with worry in her voice.
“Sorry I must have zoned out for a minute. Excuse me?”
“Take your time.”
I hit redial on the unfamiliar number with a frown. “Hello, someone just called from this number?” I was prepared for an unsolicited sales call but I wasn’t prepared for the frightened woman on the other end of the line.
“Are you Moon Vanderbilt, Beau’s mother?”
Oh God, not Beau. “I am. What’s wrong? Please just tell me, no sugarcoating.”
“Beau is having an asthma attack, a pretty bad one. His inhaler isn’t working and the nurse is unfamiliar with the portable machine in his backpack.”
“He needs—”
“An ambulance is already on the way Ms. Vanderbilt. It’ll be much faster for you to meet him at the hospital.”
My heart raced like I’d just run a marathon and for several seconds, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything at all. “Oh. Okay. Thank you, Miss…?”
“Charles. Charlene Charles. Good luck with Beau.”
The call ended. I don’t know how long before I finally got my feet moving across the gallery and toward the door.
“Beau is having another attack,” I explained and tossed the shop keys to Max. “Lock up?”
“We got it. Go take care of my little man,” Jana insisted with a worried smile. “Call us if you need anything.”
With a brief nod, I pushed through the doors and quickly made the trip back home to pick up my purse and my car but I was brought up short after re-locking the front door. “Cross, what are you doing here?”
“What’s wrong?” Big strong hands landed on my shoulders, deep blue eyes looking at me like he was genuinely concerned.
“Nothing. I can’t talk, not now.” Keys fell from shaky hands but Cross was there picking them up. “Sorry. Thanks. I have to go…Beau.”
“What’s wrong with Beau?” His question was straightforward but there was tension in his voice like my little boy mattered to him.
“He had another asthma attack at camp today and they called the ambulance. I need to be there when he gets to the hospital.”
“Of course you do,” he said easily and put one hand against my lower back, guiding me forward as he slipped the keys from my hand. “I’ll drive.” Cross pulled the passenger door open and nodded for me to get in.
I stared numbly at his delicious backside when he jogged around the front of the car. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know I don’t. But I’m doing it anyway.”
“Thanks.” It had been a long time since I had someone to lean on or even to drive me while Beau was in the middle of an attack. “Did you stop by for something, Cross?”
He grinned over at me, blue eyes twinkling. “To see you, Moon.”
“Oh.” What else could I say?
Chapter Nineteen
Cross
I don’t know how in the hell I was the designated chaperone for Beau in his hospital room. But after Moon spoke with the doctor who assured her that Beau wasn’t in grave danger, she’d run home to get him a change of clothes. The poor kid had sweated through his own during his ordeal. Now though, two hours later, there was no sign that anything had ever been wrong with the kid, aside from his pale skin. His blue eyes were big and wide, sparkling with excitement.
“What’s up, kid?”
He bit his lip, a move his mom often did when she was deep in thought or concentration. “What does your club do? My mom says you’re in a motorcycle club.”
His words surprised me, not his curiosity, because Beau was smart as hell and twice as curious and interested in every damn thing. What surprised me was that Moon had told him anything about the club and that she hadn’t called it a gang.
“We own a few businesses together, we ride together and we’re friends, though we think of each other as family.”
His inky brows dipped into a low vee across his forehead in confusion. “Like me and my mom?”
I nodded and he mimicked my actions.
“I wish we had more family, but Mom says you don’t always stay with the family you’re born with. Is your club big?”
I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the family Moon had been born with, because based on the few hints she’d dropped, they were old money and controlling as fuck.
“Pretty big. There are about fifty of us and some of those guys have wives and girlfriends. Kids.”
Every year there were more and more women and kids around, which I loved because roots gave a man a reason not to fuck up too bad. But I also hated it because it reminded me of what I didn’t have. Likely wouldn’t have again.
“Fifty people? Cool!” Beau’s big blue eyes were filled with mischief. “Can I meet them?”
I laughed. Beau was a wily character, using his adorable charm to work around his mother. “We’ll have to ask your mom.”
His bottom lip stuck out in a pout that was more adorable than anything, especially since he didn’t seem like a kid prone to tantrums. “Wanna play cards?” he asked.
“Uh, sure. What do you know how to play?”
I hadn’t played any kid games since I was a boy myself, and that was too long ago to even consider.
“Can you teach me a game?”
How could I say no to that face? As much as it hurt to be around him and not think about how my own kid would have been, each time we were together, it got easier. “Sure.”
Beau handed me the deck of cards and I taught him how to play a man’s card game, which was how Moon and Dr. Yang found us.
“Mom, I got a full house!” Beau, already forgetting the importance of secrecy in the game, held his cards up high for the women to see. I folded.
The little boy had gotten me to fold trip Kings. “I’m out.”
Beau giggled when Moon came closer, holding her fist up for him to bump. “Good job.”
I frowned and sat up. “You’re not upset?”
She blinked slowly, her black lashes fanning sensually over cool green eyes. “Well you have given him another game to beat me at, so yeah I’m a little upset. But why would I be upset about poker?”
“Gambling?”
She laughed. “Poker isn’t gambling, Cross. If you know how to play it’s like driving. You do the best you can with the information you have and you hope all goes well. Sometimes it doesn’t.”
I stared at her for a long time, trying to figure out if she was for real or just doing that thing where women pretend something is okay and then freak out about it later. If she was for real, she was damn near perfect.
“Okay. Good.”
Her lips twitched but Moon stayed quiet and turned to the doctor.
Dr. Yang slid a gaze to me, equal parts confused and wary. “Do you want to step out in the hall?”
Moon looked to me and back to the doctor with a casual shake of her head. “No, it’s fine. He’s a friend.”
“He’s my friend too,” Beau added with a wide grin for me.
“Okay.” Dr. Yang didn’t seem to mind either way and that made me respect her more. I was used to everyone from cops and doctors, cashiers and every other goddamn person judging me by my tattoos, my kutte and my bike.
“It is my strong recommendation that Beau begins the stem cell treatments right away. He’s young and this treatment will reduce inflammation and regenerate lung tissue, which will decrease his attacks.”
That sounded good to me, but Moon was still in her fierce protector role. “Decrease?”
The doctor smile sympathetically. “As the therapy works it will
help reshape Beau’s airways and that combined with the reduced inflammation could stop them altogether, but you know I can’t make that promise. Dr. Mankowski can give you more information.”
She kept talking about the procedure and what to expect but Moon wasn’t paying attention.
I could tell she was numb. Worried. Afraid. I stood and put my hand on her shoulder. Tension was woven into every fiber of her being, so much that she practically vibrated with it. Beau sensed it and the doctor could see it.
“Anything else, Dr. Yang?” she asked.
The doctor nodded. “I’ll let Mankowski know to expect a call from you soon.” After looking at Beau’s chart and asking him a few questions, Yang jotted down a few notes and left.
Moon sat on the edge of Beau’s bed and took his hand. “That doesn’t sound so bad, right kiddo?”
He nodded. “Stem cells are like magic, right Mom?”
Moon nodded, still quiet. And still. My heart went out to her and I realized, while Beau tried to make her smile, what my draw to her was beyond her unconventional beauty and the sex. No one could possibly understand my inner turmoil like Moon. She was wound so tight and held herself together as if one moment of relaxation, one moment of belief would tear everything apart.
I knew that feeling all too well.
“So, we’re doing this,” she said on a rushed breath that made me and Beau smile.
“Yep, we are, Mom.”
My phone buzzed, and I hated to intrude on this moment with real life shit, but I couldn’t ignore it. Pulling it out, I took a quick glance at the screen and groaned at the message from Jag.
Roadkill is behind the donations. Find me when you get back.
Shit. I had to go.
“What’s up?” Moon asked casually.
“I have to go. Something’s come up.”
Moon stood and turned to me, those green eyes looking all the way to the deepest part of me. Deliberately. “Go take care of business. If you want, we’re having dinner at seven.”
“We’re having mashed potatoes, right Mom?”
I smiled and winked at the kid. “I love mashed potatoes.”
“Me too and Mom puts all kind of stuff in it. You’ll like it.”
And how could I resist an invitation like that? “I’ll be there.” With a quick kiss to Moon’s cheek, I took long strides out of the hospital and called one of the prospects to come pick me up.
***
“We ready to do this?” I stood by my bike and looked around at the men who had come with me to find White Boy Craig. Stitch, Golden Boy, Savior and Jag had offered to come with me and there was no way in hell I’d do this without them.
“Fuck yeah,” Savior growled. “I should be at home licking chocolate off my woman’s sexy body so yeah, I’m ready to fuck some shit up.”
The rest of the men nodded. None of us were eager to do what had to be done, but we’d all served in the military which meant we were all well versed in doing what the fuck needed to be done. “I just want answers.”
“And if we can’t get them?” Golden Boy wore that psycho smile he’d worn before his prison days. It was intimidating as hell, but more than that, he was capable of following through, probably even more now that he had a wife and kid to look after.
“If we don’t get them the easy way, we’ll get answers the hard way.”
It was exactly what they wanted to hear. We were all sick of the constant bullshit lately. The problems with the city were fucking with our businesses, which made this shit personal. Roadkill had gone after our club and our women and nothing was more fucking personal than that.
My gaze connected with each man, making sure we were all on the same page as we rounded the brick façade and strode into the all-wood bar, Shandy’s.
It looked like one of those old school saloons, complete with swinging doors after the bouncer checked ID’s. I passed the long pine bar with the brass foot rest, nodding to the old bartender, Tiki, as I passed. Tiki was a big ass motherfucker who didn’t take any shit and didn’t like trouble inside his bar.
The tables were filled with men and women drinking and playing cards or dominoes while a few of the tables were filled with couples trying not to get caught by husbands and wives.
“In the back.” I said the words over my shoulder, pointing so Golden Boy and Savior saw.
White Boy Craig sat at the big table in the back surrounded by a few other members of Roadkill MC, plus the same blonde from Moon’s shop. Pacheco’s daughter. Craig’s laughter died when he caught sight of us, but it was quickly replaced with his trademark sneer.
“Well what do we have here? You boys come to celebrate?”
“Yeah, but we forgot the barbecue sauce to pour out in memory of Vigo.” Savior was never one to back away from a challenge and his words hit their mark.
White Boy Craig was on his feet and in my face. “What did you say?” he growled, though he had to look up at me because I had a few inches on the scrawny motherfucker.
“Don’t mind Savior,” I said. “Everyone knows you need ketchup or A1 sauce when the meat is well done.” I tried like hell to keep my mouth in a straight line but the outrage on his face made it difficult. “Now do you want to fight and risk Tiki’s bat to the head or do you wanna go outside and talk, Prez to Prez?”
I knew he’d choose to go outside because despite what they’d tried to do to Mandy, Roadkill was filled with a bunch of sissies. They weren’t fighters. That was why they picked on the weaker ones and also why we were all in this shit right now.
“Fine, let’s go outside. Stay here,” he ordered his men when they gathered behind him. But Lu, the treasurer and the one banging Pacheco’s daughter, moved to follow him.
“You sure?” Lu said.
“I am,” Craig said in a voice that sounded the opposite of sure, but he turned on his heels and walked out of Shandy’s.
“Okay, Cross, what the fuck do you want?” His arms were crossed over his chest defensively, but I noticed he kept at least six feet of space between us.
“What I want is answers. You still working with the feds?”
His response was immediate and as angry as I expected. “Fuck you.”
I shook my head and gave him a disgusted look. “I shouldn’t be surprised though. One snitch usually lives in a den of ’em.”
“Fuck you.”
“No thanks, White Boy. You ain’t my type. I’m sure you’ll be someone’s bitch when you get to prison.”
He leapt toward me, hands out like a fucking baby just learning how to walk. I sidestepped him, grabbing his throat and pushing him up against Shandy’s back wall.
“You fucking cowards are really in the pocket of a fucking local politician with no power?” It was still hard to believe that a bunch of bumbling idiots had stumbled into this shit. There had to be more to it.
“Shows what you know,” he said, grabbing at my hands that still held a tight grip on his throat. “Pacheco is headed for the big time. He’s on the shortlist for senator.”
I laughed so hard I nearly loosened my damn grip on this fool’s throat. “You can’t really be that dumb, can you?”
“Fuck you,” he spat at me but I was still laughing because not only was Roadkill filled with dumbasses, but they had no clue who they were involved with. “What the fuck do you know?”
“More than you, apparently. We already have two senators, both re-elected in the past four years, so if you can’t count, that means Pacheco ain’t gonna be shit. You got played.” And that was almost satisfying considering all the trouble we’d had thanks to these assholes. “So fucking played.”
“You’re wrong. That governor who got taken down means they need another one.” Craig insisted. “Pacheco will be that man.”
“He was from another state, dumbass. Pacheco is probably pocketing all that money you funneled his way.” That tidbit shocked Craig into silence and I barked out a laugh. I couldn’t believe these guys were that stupid.
; “Get your fuckin’ hands off my Prez.” I turned at the sound of Lu’s voice. I knew that scratchy smoker’s voice well. “Or I’ll make you.”
“You and what Army? Or did you bring a step ladder so you can reach me?”
Craig took his moment to swing, narrowly missing me but his fist grazed my jaw and I pressed my thumb into the beating pulse at the base of his throat.
Lu lunged forward but in an act of disrespect, Jag grabbed the back of his shirt and damn near lifted him off the ground.
“I don’t think so, Lu. Don’t make me embarrass you in front of your girl.” Jag’s voice was low and deep. Menacing. Badass.
Damn! I loved my brother.
“I’ll fucking kill you, Jag.” Lu said.
“You can try,” he said even quieter than before. “But you’ll bleed out before you get to that blade in your back pocket or that piece under your kutte.”
“Everybody calm the fuck down!” I called out. I took a step away from Craig but kept my hand on his throat, applying pressure just because I could. “Craig here was telling me that Pacheco will be our next junior Senator from Nevada. You boys believe that?”
The Reckless Bastards laughed and I continued, “Unlike these dumb sons of bitches, we know the only way to change the system is to understand how it works.”
“Someone ought to tell him it’s too late and his name isn’t on any ballot,” Jag said on a laugh as he let Lu go with a shove.
Pacheco’s daughter went to Lu and I knew this was my moment to cause a little drama because I had the upper hand.
“You’re Pacheco’s daughter, Carly, is it?”
“Yeah. You got a problem with that?”
“No, I’m just curious how much extra money they threw to your old man just to get your sweet ass as part of their deal.”
Lu stiffened, and Carly took a step away from him. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t listen to a word he says, babe. His whole club is full of fucking liars.” Lu moved in and wrapped an arm around her, pressing his lips to the spot behind her ear.