by KB Winters
Stitch kicked a leg over his bike and grinned. “None of us will respect you less if you get one of those old man ass cushions.”
“Asshole!”
He laughed and flipped me off, revving the engine as he sped off. Yeah, I smiled as I caught up with the little fucker. He wasn’t so bad.
By the time we arrived at Reed’s place, I had my head on straight enough that I could appreciate the impressive layout hidden behind what amounted to a goddamn forest. The security was state-of-the-art, unobtrusive enough that you couldn’t see it if you weren’t looking for it. We parked behind a steel fence that was at least ten feet tall with concrete woven through the grates. I followed Stitch up to a large industrial looking building. “Is this it?”
A laugh sounded a few feet away and I looked up to see who I guessed was Reed. He looked like a hippie with shoulder length brown hair and tons of gray around the edges. Worn jeans and a Traveling Wilburys’ t-shirt covered his lanky frame and he topped the outfit off with a pair of Birkenstocks. “She’s not much to look at but no, this isn’t it.” He held out his hand and wore a friendly smile. “Reed Henderson.”
“Gunnar. Nice to meet ya.”
He greeted Stitch with a handshake and a half-hug before guiding us on a tour of his operation. It included three different buildings for everything from cultivating flowers to production and storage. “Now this is it,” he said with a proud smile I could appreciate. “What do you think?”
Both Stitch and Reed turned to me expectantly and I could admit the truth. “I think this is damn impressive, Reed.” He ran a tight ship, taking every precaution necessary for the highest quality products and I respected the hell out of that. The dude was an old school hippie with a genius level IQ and a clear passion for weed. It was clear to see how he and Stitch had connected.
His smile grew bigger as he shoved hair from his face and smacked his hands together. “The only thing left to do is have a little toke.”
“Or a big toke,” Stitch added to what was clearly an inside joke.
Reed guided us along a path about a quarter-mile away from the buildings where a small creek bubbled between rocks. He sat down onto the grass and crossed his legs like some hippie yoga guru. Then he pulled out a vaporizer and a small glass pipe. “The vape will let you taste it pure but Stitch here is a heathen and prefers to torch the bud.”
“Well I’d prefer a bong but I’m guessing it doesn’t go with your sandals?” Stitch accepted the glass pipe with one hand and dug for a lighter with another.
I had to wait for the vaporizer to heat up which felt wrong and pretentious to me but when I took the first hit, I could admit, “This is damn good shit, man.” Reed looked pleased but after that, I kind of zoned out, listening to the old friends catch up on life while I enjoyed my high.
“How’s your girl?”
At Reed’s question, Stitch shrugged. “Marisol is good but something is going on with her.” I wasn’t looking at Stitch but I could hear the worry in his voice, which probably would have made me worry if I hadn’t been so stoned because when it came to chicks, the Reckless Bastards turned into Captain Save-A-Ho.
The silence, though momentary, was pensive before Reed spoke. “Be careful, Chris. She is a nice girl but she comes with shit you really don’t want.”
I heard the warning in Reed’s words and he’d also used Stitch’s given name, Chris. So I sat up. “What kind of shit?”
“Personal ones,” the kid bit out with more force than I’d ever heard him use. It didn’t make me feel any better about whoever this Marisol chick was.
“Right.” If he thought I was done digging, then he was a bigger fool than I thought. I’d find the fucking answers before we got back to Mayhem.
“I’ll leave you guys to enjoy the high. Find me before you go and I’ll send you back with some bud.” With the agility and speed of a man a decade younger, Reed got to his feet and whistled as he walked away.
Stitch was tense, bracing himself for the lecture he was so certain was coming. But I wasn’t in the mood for a sermon. “Don’t worry man, I’m saving my speeches for when Maisie is a teenage hellraiser.”
“But?”
“But it never hurts to be careful in this life.”
“You think I should steer clear of Marisol?”
I wanted to say hell yeah I thought so, but that would only send him running in her direction even faster. “That’s not what I’m saying Stitch, but it’s clear you don’t know her. If you want her, find out her dark secrets before they bite you—and us—in the ass.”
“So you’re worried about yourself?”
I nodded because there was no fucking point in lying. “Me and the little girl under my care. Not to mention all the other women and kids.” I stood so we were face to face, a few feet apart so he could hear me. Really hear me. “I never realized how fucking worrisome it was to be a parent Stitch, and if I had, maybe I would have had a better understanding of all the stress Cross has on his shoulders. It’s something we all have to think about. But more importantly, if she needs help, you need to know so you can take it to Cross.”
“She ain’t my girl though, Gunnar. She’s just a chick I spend some time with when I’m in the area.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Since I doubt you told Reed what a good lay she is, I call bullshit.”
Stitch let out a sigh and raked a hand through his long dark hair. “Do you mind if we make another quick stop?”
“Nah, let’s go.”
Reed loaded us up with product but it wasn’t necessary. His shit was damn good and he had a professional operation that would make Cross happy. As soon as we got back, I’d give him my thoughts.
Thankfully when we got to Marisol’s place, she wasn’t at home.
Chapter Six - Jag
“Jag!” Rocky smiled up at me when she answered the door, Baby Dallas on her hip already reaching for me. “Sorry I didn’t even hear the bell but I think Dallas has radar for his Uncle Jaggy!”
He leapt from her arms right into mine and I couldn’t deny it felt good to be so welcome.
“Hey, kiddo!” He wrapped chubby little arms around me, babbling nonstop in his incoherent baby talk. “Sounds like there’s a party going on inside.”
“Of sorts,” she said with a shrug before she stepped back. “The girls are hanging with me, Dallas and Maisie today. Come on in.”
“Smells good in here.” There were blankets and pillows all over the living room floor where the tiny humans played but mostly nibbled on fabric. And each other. The women were all gathered around the table in the dining room where they could keep an eye on the children while doing…whatever they were doing. “Hey ladies, how’s it going?”
“Jag, did you come here to be our eye candy?” Teddy leaned forward, chin resting on her fist with a mischievous smile on her face.
Teddy was a troublemaker but she was also a stand up chick, willing to help whenever she could and always had a smart ass comment. “That’s not why I came but look all you want.” She opened her mouth and I pointed at her. “Just don’t think anything is coming off.”
Teddy pouted and sat back with a satisfied grin. “Wuss.”
“Don’t listen to her Jag,” Jana pushed up from her seat with a soft smile and a shake of her silky blonde hair. “I’ll get you something to eat and you can leave your shirt on.”
“Bummer,” Katrina muttered with a fake pout.
I had to shake my head at these women, so sassy all the damn time. Some of them, like Teddy and Rocky, were always feisty as hell. But Jana had mostly been quiet and shy, keeping her steel hidden from everyone until it was necessary.
I’d known Katrina the longest since she ran Stetson for the MC, but usually she was the capable madam or house mother. Today she was just one of the girls. And they ran the men more than the men ran the club. But Jana could cook and that was why I was here. I was starved. “Gee, thanks Jana. And to think I was just telling Max what a good influence you are on
him.”
Her laugh echoed from the kitchen, sending Teddy and Rocky into a fit of giggles, which sent little Dallas off, laughing in my arms. “Damn right I am!”
“So what are you girls up to today besides causing trouble?” Scraps of fabric covered one end of the table. “Arts and crafts?”
“Shut your mouth!” Rocky’s eyes went wide and her hands covered the materials and pens protectively. “For your information we’re adding the finishing touches to all of the Halloween costumes for the kiddos. Both big and small.” She arched a brow my way, daring me to diss her work.
“Please tell me you made Lasso a costume.” Her smile said it all and I wanted to feel some excitement about Halloween and the dressed-up Bastards but couldn’t find it in me.
“I don’t know, Rocky, I think we have enough material to fashion some cowboy accessories for Jag.” Teddy’s eyes gleamed with an amusement that I didn’t share.
“No thanks. This is more of a parent-child activity. And I am no one’s baby daddy.” Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I was someone’s man or not at this point. The room fell into a tense silence that any red-blooded man knew spelled trouble. And in a room full of known troublemakers, I was tempted to take Dallas and run like hell. But I was a hungry man and I’d sit here and eat the food Jana sat in front of me, and hope like hell they went easy on me. “Thanks, Jana.”
“No problem. Eat up, big man.” She plucked the baby from my arms with just a token protest from him and put him with the rest of the kids.
And eat was what I did, enjoying the stuffed chicken, asparagus and mashed potatoes. I was tempted to ask what occasion called for such a feast but I couldn’t stop shoveling the food in my mouth. “So good.”
“So,” Rocky began with a relaxed grin. “When is Vivi coming back?”
Dammit. “Good question. If you find out, give me a call, would ya?” More than a week had passed since I’d last spoken to her, or received any kind of message. I didn’t know if she was just busy—or in trouble.
“Shit, this just became a lot less fun,” Teddy griped, wincing when Jana smacked her arm. “I mean, it sucks you don’t know when she’s coming back because now, teasing you just feels mean.”
“Thanks Teddy. I wish she was already here and yeah, sometimes I wonder if she’s ever coming back. I keep the faith. I might not get any answers and I have to be all right with that.” The odds were astronomical that we’d get back together and now, with almost a year’s absence, I worried I was asking too much.
“She’ll be back Jag, don’t you worry. I have a good feeling about you two.” Rocky grinned and placed a gentle hand on top of mine.
I was glad one of us had a good feeling but I didn’t say anything about it. Instead I smiled and turned to Jana and asked, “Got anymore of those mashed potatoes?”
I didn’t want to talk about Vivi anymore and I didn’t want to think about her right now either. I was more than content to hang around with the family I already had.
For now, anyway.
Chapter Seven - Stitch
Four days. Four fucking days since Gunnar and Cross had a closed-door meeting about doing business with Reed and I hadn’t heard one single goddamn word. From either of them. It was total bullshit, stringing me along like this. I expected it from Gunnar, he was an old ass grouch, always complaining about shit instead of trying to enjoy what he had. A cute little girl and a club full of brothers who always had his back. Still he bitched and moaned. About everything.
But Cross not saying anything surprised me. So far, he had proven to be a great President despite all the shit we’d been through and all the stress he was under. And he’d always faced shit head on. Except this. It pissed me off, but I refused to show it, not when they still called me ‘kid’ and ‘youngster’ and anything else to remind me that I was years younger than all the older guys. And younger than some of the new prospects.
Instead, I stayed at home, inside my crappy little two-bedroom apartment. I didn’t need or want more. Not yet. What I did want, though, was some food.
My fridge was bare so I grabbed my keys and headed for the door. At the same time a knock sounded. When I pulled the door open my jaw nearly fell to the floor at the sight of Marisol, all tan and curvy and luscious. And she looked scared. “Baby, what are you doing here? I’m so glad to see you. Come on in.”
She sighed, wringing her hands. Those big brown eyes full of fear as she stepped in closer and wrapped her arms around me. “Stitch.” Her voice came out on a shuddery whimper.
“Shit, babe. What’s wrong?”
She held on tight for nearly a minute before sucking in a deep breath and letting it out. “Sorry.” She stepped back on a shaky grin. “I just wanted to see you.”
“As much as I want to believe that, I’m gonna have to call bullshit sweetheart.” Everything about her screamed woman on the run and that had me on edge, blood pumping through my veins hot and thick like lava. Maybe it was the woman and her curves. Or maybe it was something else. I shut the door and said, “Come on, Marisol. Tell me what’s going on.”
She let me guide her to the sofa where she dropped down with a heavy sigh. “It’s all so fucking cliché, Stitch.”
“Tell me and our old friend Jack all about it,” I said and poured two glasses of Tennessee’s finest. “I assume this has to do with the married boyfriend?”
Marisol nodded and took two big gulps before she sank into the sofa with a sigh. “Yeah, who else?” She huffed out a bitter laugh and finished her glass before shoving it in my direction. “I woke up the day after your last visit to find Carlito sitting in my living room, drinking a cup of coffee. He sounded so fucking reasonable, the way he always did. At first.”
A chill ran down my spine but I kept my mouth shut and listened. With a death grip on my glass. “And then?”
“Then he went totally fucking psycho. I walked straight past him and fixed a cup for myself and when I turned around, he was there like a creepy fucking turtle.” She shivered at the memory. “His gaze narrowed and he looked at me with hate in his eyes before grabbing me by the throat. You’re mine, Marisol. You belong to me. Remember that,” she repeated, mimicking a thick Spanish accent. “You can fuck that white boy but don’t ever forget, you are mine.” She shoved her hair back, tucking some of the strands behind her ear so I could see her full face.
And the fucking bruise that was forming. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
Marisol’s soft hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged. “I laughed at him. Told him that I’m his employee, one he forces to fuck.” I opened my mouth to protest but she waved me off. “He backhanded me and for some reason I laughed even harder.” The memory held her captive for a few seconds, her hands absently fidgeting with the hem of her tank top, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip. “He only proved my point and I told him as much. I’m stuck with him until one of us is dead but he likes to pretend it’s a love match. Most days I can take it, but that morning I just couldn’t let the charade go on, you know?”
Yeah, I fucking knew. “You can stay here, Marisol. As long as you need.” No, that wasn’t a good idea. “It might be better—”
“No, Stitch. Stop. I’m not here for your help.”
I frowned. “And you’re not here because you missed me, so what the hell, Marisol?”
“Carlito took my phone. That’s why I haven’t been in touch. Anyway he knows about you, I don’t know how much but he knows and I had to warn you.”
“I can handle myself, Marisol, but I appreciate your concern.” I tried to pull her close, to offer her comfort but she pushed me away.
“Dammit, Stitch will you listen to me? He isn’t just some shady businessman. It’s Carlito Esteban, also known as El Jefe. He’s the head of the Salinas Cartel.”
Aww, shit. “Damn girl when you go big, you go big as hell don’t you?” I needed a moment to think. If I was smart I would have called Cross but I quickly talked myself out of it. For now. “Is there anything you need from
Reno? If not, we can grab some stuff from Target and I can get you out of town.” It wasn’t ideal but it was all I had at the moment.
She shook her head again, long thick hair spilling all around her shoulders. “I can’t. There is no disappearing, not from them. Carlito will find me wherever I go. I have to go back.”
“Okay. I’m going to Reno with you.” I told her firmly, so she knew I wasn’t asking.
“No, they’ll kill—”
I held up a hand to stop her tirade when my phone began to vibrate across the coffee table.
It was Gunnar. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Cross gave the go ahead and he’s already talked to Reed. We leave tomorrow at 0900 hours. Don’t be late.” He hung up like he always did. Rude fucker.
I turned back to Marisol. She looked even more scared than she had a minute ago. “The good news is that you’ll have an escort home tomorrow.”
Arms crossed, she narrowed her gaze in my direction. “And the bad news?”
I shrugged. “I don’t do bad news sweetheart. The better news is that we get to break my bed tonight.” The sound of her laugh, low and husky, was exactly what I wanted to hear in that moment.
“What about the couch, Stitch? Is it just the bed we get to break or can we try the couch too?”
I laughed and scooped her up in one arm and the bottle of Jack in the other. “If you’re up for it, we can break the whole damn apartment.”
Chapter Eight - Gunnar
Since I was the dumbass who had convinced Cross that this deal with Reed was a good one, I was determined not to be a jerk. But Stitch had a way of bringing out my innermost asshole. Like today when I knocked on his door only to be greeted by a curvy brunette who looked perfectly rumpled and well fucked. “Who the hell are you?”