by A Parker
I heard the shower turn off.
“We don’t have a choice,” I said finally. “We need to find a way to get close to Bates so we can finish him before he has a chance to finish us. He’s showed his hand multiple times over. He has no intention of letting any of us walk away in one piece, Black Jack. It’s time we stop affording him the luxury of air.”
Jackson rubbed his jaw. “And Caroline?”
“What about her?” I asked.
“Once we cut the head off the snake, she’ll take his place,” Jackson said.
“So we kill her, too,” Mason said matter-of-factly.
Jackson grimaced. As a rule, we didn’t hurt or kill women. Sometimes it didn’t seem like there was much that separated us from the riffraff, but there was that. Women were off limits.
Mason saw Jackson’s hesitation. “She’s worth making an exception for. As you said, she’ll step into Bates’s shoes. She’s as cruel and ruthless as he is. Hell, she might even be smarter than him. What if he’s the one keeping her in line?”
“I don’t like it either, Jack,” I said. “But we can’t leave her on the board. She’s too dangerous.”
The bathroom door opened. Carrie came out wrapped in one of my towels. She had her hair up in another one. She didn’t look in Jackson’s direction as she walked past, but she shot me a glance, and I cleared my throat and tried to look unbothered by her long bare legs glistening with drops of shower water.
She disappeared into my bedroom and closed the door. Seconds later, we heard a blow dryer turn on.
“She going somewhere?” Jackson asked.
“Not that I’m aware of,” I said.
Mason chuckled. “Just getting dolled up for you, then?”
“Piss off,” I said.
Mason held up his hands in a display of innocence. “Just saying, man. She’s a beautiful girl. I wouldn’t blame you if you, you know, wanted to take her for a test drive.”
“She’s a viper,” Jackson grated. “No test drives.”
Mason shrugged one shoulder. “In my experience a well-fucked woman is a hell of a lot less trouble.”
Jackson’s eyes narrowed.
I grinned, glad the heat was off me finally. “Does that apply to Suzie?”
Mason gaped like a fish out of water. “That’s not what I meant.”
Jackson moved toward the Vice President. “What did you mean?”
“I was talking out of my ass,” Mason said hurriedly. “Tex, you know what I’m saying, right? It was a joke, Jack. Honestly. I don’t fuck—I don’t—Suzie isn’t—shit.” He ran his hand over his head and his shoulders slumped.
I laughed. “Just don’t let Suzie hear you talk like that, Mason. She’d tie you to the back of her bike by your balls and open the throttle.”
Mason winced and tugged at the front of his jeans. “Shit, man.”
Jackson grumbled. “Not a half-bad idea.”
The blow dryer stopped humming in the bedroom. What was that girl up to in there?
I lit another cigarette and puffed on it while Jackson backed off Mason and cast irritated glances at the bedroom door. “We should send her back to Austin. For all we know they wanted her dead last night, not you Tex.”
“Like I said, she can handle herself,” I said.
“She’s bad news,” Jackson said. “I can feel it in my bones. We’re better off without her.”
“You were the one who told me to keep her close,” I said.
“That was before she started walking around like a smart ass. If we keep her around, best case scenario she’ll be collateral damage. And worst case? She’s not on our side. She’s playing the long game. She could be our undoing.”
The bedroom door opened and Carrie stepped out.
My jaw nearly hit the floor.
Mason cleared his throat and didn’t take his eyes off her as she moved across the apartment and grabbed the keys to my Chevelle hanging by the front door. She wore a pair of skintight leather leggings and a cropped red shirt the color of wine. Her lips were painted the same deep shade, and her long blonde hair was shiny and lightly tousled. If the boys hadn’t been here, I’d have pinned her against the wall and ruined her lipstick, among other things.
“Where the hell are you going?” Jackson asked.
Carrie lifted her chin. “I have a plan of my own worked out.”
Jackson let out barking laughter. “Give me a break. What sort of plan requires the whore getup?”
Carrie smiled not-so-sweetly. “For your information, these are your girl’s clothes.”
Jackson held his tongue, and I held in my laughter. Carrie wasn’t afraid of him. Not even a little bit. Hell, I wondered if she was afraid of anyone or anything.
She twirled the keys around her finger. “I just need you boys to trust me, okay?”
Jackson rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Give me a fucking break.”
“I trust you,” I said.
“Likewise,” Mason added.
Jackson glared at us, his eyes burning with betrayal. His fiery stare slid to Carrie. “What does this plan entail?”
Carrie opened the front door. “If I tell you, you’ll never let me go through with it. Have a little faith, Black Jack.”
With that, she stepped out into the hall and let the door fall closed behind her.
If Jackson were a cartoon character, he’d have been blowing smoke out of his ears.
Chapter 12
Carrie
The old Chevelle wasn’t exactly incognito.
The exhaust sounded like it was either going to blow up or fall off, and the engine had a rattle that had to be a death sentence. Why the damn thing was still insured, I had no idea, but I was grateful for the wheels. I didn’t have my own car here. Since I came to Reno, I’d been getting around in one of the station’s cruisers, but for obvious reasons, that was no longer an option.
So the Chevelle it was.
It coughed and sputtered all the way down the inner streets of Reno, where just last night Tex and I had woven through traffic like two psychopaths with death wishes. I passed the same alley we’d taken cover in, drove over tire marks on the pavement, and passed the same intersection where it all started.
It all felt surreal.
My hands shook when I pulled over to the curb and put the Chevelle in park. I took the keys out of the ignition and sat behind the wheel, baking in the afternoon sun as it beat through the windshield. Across the street, I watched the hustle and bustle of a busy hair salon. The windows were trimmed in outdated powder-pink curtains, and the name of the salon was written in white marker on the windows: The Snip Shop.
Since coming to Reno, I’d learned that many businesses, including the salon, were owned by independent business people who’d opened their doors twenty years ago. The street seemed to thrive with unique shops, including bakeries, computer repair places, soup and sandwich joints, thrift stores, a realty office, and all other kinds of destination locations. It had the feel of a quaint and much smaller city on this block, but I knew what lay underneath the glossy sidewalk signs.
Crime.
Control.
Power.
These places were being crushed under Bates’s thumb. Since he rolled into town, he’d been buying up every business he could get his hands on. The ones who wouldn’t sell or the ones he didn’t want, he pushed for money. He now had a well-oiled operation where he collected hundreds of dollars from each business, perhaps thousands.
Every week he sent his daughter to collect his funds. Today, she’d hit the salon, as well as a handful of other places down the block.
I’d staked out this location before in my cruiser, curious about the comings and goings of the Bates family. I knew Caroline’s routine from hours parked at the curb in my undercover squad car, and it was unflinchingly rigid.
She would be here within fifteen minutes.
I got out of the Chevelle and crossed the street. A bell chimed overhead when I stepped through the
salon door, and a young woman with ruby red glasses looked up from a computer screen.
She pushed the glasses higher up on her nose and smiled. “Hi, what time is your appointment?”
“Oh, I don’t have an appointment.”
She looked me up and down, no doubt taking note of my scandalous outfit. “We’re fully booked today.”
“That’s too bad,” I said, pulling my badge out of my purse and flashing it at her. “I’m going to need everyone to get out.”
The girl stared at my badge before promptly calling her manager over, who pleaded with me not to kick out her customers, some of whom had foils in their hair and were only halfway through the bleaching process.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. “You’re not going to want to be here in fifteen minutes anyway. Believe me. Maybe one of the other salons will let you use their sinks.”
“I doubt it,” the manager muttered, but she cleared the salon out nonetheless. When she was the last one left, she stood in front of the windows with her arms crossed over her chest. She was a thickly built woman with blue streaks in the front of her black hair. “I can’t leave. I have an important appointment that I can’t miss.”
“I’m taking that appointment for you,” I said.
The manager stiffened before peering out the windows. “Are you… alone?”
“I am.”
“Miss, surely I don’t need to tell you how delicate this situation is. Please, don’t make things worse than they already are for me. I’ve finally found a way to make things work. I don’t want any trouble.”
“I don’t want any trouble either,” I said, trying to speak as gently as possible. I understood that I probably wasn’t making the best impression on her, and she had every reason to be frightened. “Look, I know where you’re coming from. I’m sorry to do this, but please believe me when I tell you, this isn’t about you or the salon. This is private business.”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“Please,” I said softly, “go before she arrives. You can come back in an hour.”
After the manager left, I sat down in one of the salon chairs and stared at my own reflection. I needed this meeting with Caroline to go well. I had too much riding on it to fail—like Jackson’s trust in me, for example.
When I heard the back door open and close, I knew it was showtime.
Caroline’s heels clicked down the tiles until she reached the front of the salon. She wore a pair of designer sunglasses, and she pulled them down when she saw me sitting at one of the stations. Her gaze swept up and down the length of me before her red lips pressed into a condescending smile.
“Well, well, well. I knew it was only a matter of time before you started to look like the trash you’ve been associating with, Ranger.”
I turned slowly in my chair, channeling my inner super villain. I considered pressing my fingertips together but didn’t want to overdo it, so instead I crossed one leg over the other and draped my arms over the rests. “You’re predictably punctual, Caroline.”
“And you’re holding up my collection.” She held up a black designer bag and shook it. “Did Melina give you the cash, or are you intentionally messing with my father’s business deal?”
“I’d hardly call this a business deal. A business deal requires a benefit for both parties involved.”
“Melina’s benefit is that she gets to stay open,” Caroline sneered. “And that she gets to keep breathing. You, on the other hand? I don’t know if you’re going to be so lucky. I should kill you right now. We know what you did last night. That little stunt you pulled? Very cute.”
“Stunt?” I laughed, even though my insides were shrinking. Caroline was equally as menacing as her father and harder to read. “Have you ever looked up the definition of a sociopath, Caroline?”
“I’m so much more complicated than that.”
If by complicated she meant batshit, then she was right on the money.
“What are you doing here, Hart? What do you want?”
I stood up. “I wanted to discuss an opportunity with you. A deal. Something that would actually benefit both parties involved.”
Caroline flicked her long white ponytail over her shoulder and rolled her shoulders like a preening bird. “Do I dare entertain the proposals of one of the Devil’s sluts?”
She’s just trying to ruffle your feathers. Force your end. Stay cool.
I looked down at my outfit. “You like it? Convincing, right?”
Caroline’s blue eyes narrowed, and she reminded me of a cat. “Spit it out, Hart.”
“Did you really think I’d throw away all my values? I came here to do good work. Honest work. I didn’t come here to screw bikers and put bodies in the ground. Yet here I am, probably wanted for murder and seeking solace in the Devil’s den because I don’t have anywhere else to turn. This isn’t what I wanted, Caroline.”
“Then what do you want?”
“To go home.”
“Of course.” Caroline sighed. “Little southern belle misses her daddy.”
My breath hitched in my throat.
Caroline smiled deviously. “Did you really think we didn’t do a background check on you, Hart? Come on. I thought you were a better cop than that.”
My chest tightened, but I forced myself to breathe through the panic. “Yes, okay? Yes, I miss my father. I miss my life, my home, my job, my friends. I miss being able to leave my house and not have to constantly look over my shoulder. I miss paperwork. I thought I wanted this. You know? I really thought I could come here, make a difference, and make a name for myself. But I underestimated what I was getting myself into and now I just want out.”
Caroline tapped her foot to a steady rhythm. “I’m listening.”
I sighed. “I know I can’t just walk away after what’s happened. I know that. But I also know that men like your father are willing to make deals to turn the other cheek. I also know what he wants more than anything else right now.”
“And what’s that?”
“The Devil’s Luck on a silver platter. Jackson’s head. All of it.”
“And you think you can help him get it?”
“I do.” I walked toward her, knowing full well she probably had a gun in that handbag of hers and wouldn’t hesitate to use it if she decided to turn on me. I crossed my arms to hide my shaking hands. “Look, I wasn’t willing to die for a Devil’s Luck bastard last night, and that’s why your guys are dead. I’m not sorry about that. But if given the chance, and with the promise that I can leave Reno without any trouble, I can help you and your father finally put an end to this thing. I’ve been staying with one of them. I’m learning the ins and outs of the club. With a bit more time, I’ll have the kind of intel your father needs to bury them once and for all.”
Caroline peered down the length of her nose at me. She had half a head of height over me, and I could tell she liked how it made her feel like she had the upper hand. There was a glimmer of something in her eyes that unsettled me.
For lack of a better word, it looked like sheer evil.
“Fine,” she said finally. “I’ll talk to him.”
I swallowed my sigh of relief. “How long do you need?”
“Sweetheart, don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ll talk to him. Whether he’s interested or not remains to be seen. But you listen to me and listen good.” She reached out and grabbed my elbow. Her long red nails pressed into my skin, and she leaned in close enough for me to smell spearmint on her breath. “If you’re jerking me around, I’ll make you regret ever leaving your comfy desk job and coming to Reno. You want me to believe you’re a big girl? Fine. You’re a big girl. Let’s just hope you can keep up the brave face when push comes to shove and the ball starts rolling.”
I stared evenly back at her. “Ask your friends from last night how I act when push comes to shove. Oh, wait. They’re all dead.”
She released me.
I stepped back. “I know I fucked up your
collection today. I didn’t know how else to talk to you alone.”
Caroline gave me a sickeningly sweet smile before turning on her heel and marching toward the back door. “Don’t worry about it, baby. Melina can make up for it next week. She’s reliable like that. Watch your back with those Devils. I find it hard to believe they trust you the way you seem to think they do.” She paused after opening the back door. Afternoon sun streamed in, making her hair look even whiter than usual. “Even the one whose bed you’re sharing. Don’t let him get too close. They soil everything they touch.”
With that, she was gone.
I exhaled and gripped the back of one of the salon chairs as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest.
You’re okay, I thought over and over. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.
Chapter 13
Jameson
Carrie didn’t see me standing in a shadow about to light a cigarette when she came in through the front door. The sun had passed its highest point in the afternoon and no longer lit up the pit, the small courtyard where I presently stood, my lighter poised at the end of my cigarette. Silently, I watched her take off her shoes at the front door, hang the keys to my Chevelle back on the hook, and fluff up her hair in the bathroom mirror as she passed the doorway.
“You look proud of yourself,” I said.
She yelped, skittered back a few steps, and pressed a hand to her chest as she regained her composure. “You scared the shit out of me!”
I flicked my lighter and lit my smoke. “Where were you?”
Carrie looked around my small apartment.
“Jackson is gone,” I told her. “He gave me an earful about you and your attitude problem before he left though, I’ll tell you that much. You might consider toning it down when he’s around, yeah?”
“Jackson can kiss my ass.” She turned and showed me her ass, which had never looked as good as it did in those skintight leather leggings.
I took a draw, held the smoke in my lungs for a moment, and released. “Come here.”
Carrie studied me coolly. “Why?”