by A. J. Macey
“Don’t call me that again. You’re not my Old Lady and you’re not an Ace. You’ve done nothing to deserve the right to call me Grave. I’ve put up with all your shit until now, but this is where I draw the line,” he ground out, fury making his eyes two ebony pools. I kept my face stoic as I looked at him, and turning my body to face him helped mask what my hands were doing.
“I suggest, Grave, you remove your hand.” I stood, letting the rage consume me. “I would easily sever your femoral artery before you so much as blink,” I hissed, the knife that I always carried open and cutting against his skin. The dark blood bubbled onto his black jeans in an almost invisible stain. “I will gladly stand by and watch you bleed to death if you don’t back the fuck off.” Our standoff only lasted a few more moments before he winced as I dug the knife in slightly. He released my jaw and his chest heaved in furious pants.
“Don’t think I will forget this,” he growled. I gave him a cruel smile.
“Then I suggest you don’t ever forget that I will end anyone that tries to fuck with me. You can hate me all you fucking want, but you do not ever put your hands on me unless I say it’s okay,” I snarled. “Ace, no Ace, I will put anyone that’s a threat to me six feet under.” Pulling back, I wiped the bloody blade against my jeans before tucking it in its normal home, my eyes never leaving his steely gaze.
“Well,” a familiar smooth voice sounded in the silent room. All eyes were wide as they watched us. Apparently, during our conversation the room had started to fill with patch holders ready to unwind with a drink or a good fuck from the several hang-arounds that had joined the crowd. “I guess I shouldn’t leave you two children alone from now on,” Brooks stated from his position a few feet away.
Garrett was standing behind his right shoulder, his fists curled in a white-knuckled grip. At me or his club’s enforcer, I didn’t know or particularly care. Abby’s face was blank as she stared, but the way her body was taut with edginess, I knew she was concerned about how everything went down. Not for me, but for how it would echo within the club. There were clear lines drawn now between the Aces and me.
Fuck them.
“Back office,” Brooks continued, his tone steely as he eyed us angrily. “Both of you. Now.”
I kept my eyes trained on his enforcer in case he attempted to fight dirty. I know I would.
Murmurs and whispers broke out among the crowd as I followed Brooks down the hall, Garrett stayed between me and Stone as we filed down the dingy carpet. The office was cramped between the four of us, Stone standing as far from me as possible, while Garrett remained planted between us as we all faced Brooks.
“Jesus,” Brooks huffed, his smooth tone pained as he rubbed his eyes. “I expected better from both of you. We absolutely can’t have strife within the club with everything going on with the Alloy Kings.” My brows dipped in confusion.
“What problems?” I asked as Stone glared over at me at my question. Garrett remained quiet.
“They’re stealing shipments and are targeting us,” Brooks explained briefly.
“Boss,” Stone ground out between clenched teeth, “she shouldn’t know club business. We don’t know what her ultimate motives are. Hell,” he started to raise his voice, “she could be working with Alloy Kings for all we know!”
“Oh, puh-lease”—I rolled my eyes—“like I’d ever work for fuckbag Ma-Gee over there. I hate Bryce Hill. He’s a tool,” I huffed out, thinking of the scrawny president of the Alloy Kings. All eyes trained on me in question. “What?” My single worded question showed my evident exasperation. “He tried to hire me in the past but attempted to fuck me over before I even did the job, so I told him to eat shit,” I explained, looking around the room, Garrett seemed pissed while Brooks appeared contemplative.
“Did you know who we were before we were introduced?” Brooks asked. He was much more observant than I had initially given him credit for.
Fuck! I guess it was now or never. The question, though, was whether to play dumb and deny or go all in and act like it was no big deal… Maybe, I’d even gain a bit of that trust Stone always seemed to be going on about. Well, here’s go nothing, I mentally grimaced. Let’s hope I made the right choice.
“Of course I did.” I shook my head in disbelief. “I know all criminals in the area. At the very least the names of the major players and where their main allegiance lies. How else do you think I knew your road names without you telling me?”
“You could have overheard,” Garrett finally spoke, looking at me like I was some strange, fascinating creature.
“No, but that doesn't matter. Why the hell am I back here getting lectured like I’m in the principal's office? I told you before.” I stared at Brooks, my eyes holding his grey-blues. “I will fuck up anyone who tries to start shit with me.”
So much for a little earned trust. These fuckers expected too much from me without giving anything in return. They were going to learn today though. Brooks calls me baby, but we all know what they say about baby and corners.
“That doesn’t mean you can do it within the club especially not in front of the other patch holders!” he shouted, his smooth voice filled with outrage. “You’re here because you’re on our payroll, meaning you follow our rules, meaning you don’t disrespect the members!” I felt myself go numb, my emotions dulling until they were nonexistent. It was the only way to keep my sanity or for Brooks to keep his pretty face attached to his skull.
“Here’s the thing, Brooks,” I started, my fingers steepled in front of my mouth before angling toward him as if I was pointing. “Yes, I am getting paid for the job you want me to do, but do I have a ‘Property of’ patch on my back or the club’s cut?” His head pulled back as he looked at me in confusion.
“No,” Garrett finally spoke, his voice dead. He’d known me long enough to understand where this conversation was going.
“That’s right.” I smirked at him. “Have I been patched in?” Garrett’s head shook no. “Go on rides?” Another no. “Hm,” I hummed, my lips thinning as if I was thinking about the answers. “I guess that means I’m not an Ace and yeah, your first rule is Respect First.” Their eyebrows raised in surprise that I knew their rules. “But in my world, respect is earned and none of you have earned jack shit from me.”
“But,” Brooks tried to cut me off, and I snapped. My intense emotions from the job and everything between the four of us finally caught up to me; my wrath burned like acid in my stomach and chest.
“But nothing, Brooks! Consider me officially off your payroll,” I commanded. “I don’t want your fucking money, not if it comes at the price of my freedom.” I stepped forward, my chest brushing his. “No one rules me, Boss, and I sure as hell don’t bow down to anyone. Not Stone, not my stepbrother, and certainly not to you.” He looked as if he’d been slapped when I stepped back. Turning to Garrett, I saw that his mask was in place, but the pained strain deep within his green eyes flashed out at me.
“Fuck all of you. Figure your own shit out,” I growled, turning and storming out of the room. I hadn’t realized I was shouting until I stepped into the bar and all eyes landed on me. Keeping my head high, I strode out of the room and into the cooling night air.
A few hours later after riding out my anger in a long cruise, I walked into my home. The lights were dimmed, but not off, so I was able to make my way through the large structure without issues. Grabbing a beer, I unlaced my riding boots and kicked them into the corner. My body thrummed with exhaustion mixed with the tail end of my anger. I didn’t regret for one moment what I did, no one puts hands on me, but I couldn’t help but feel down at the separation between them and Chase and me. It had felt good to work with someone closely. I usually would get the details for the job electronically, never face to face, before receiving the front half of the payment. I didn’t interact in person, only electronically of course, with anyone until it was done when I got the rest of my money.
Doesn’t matter, I told myself. I was going to
do this job without the money solely so I could fuck over Frankie and his shitty escort service. That alone was enough of a payment. Chase had left me a note on the counter saying he’d be doing a couple more hours of surveillance on the warehouse tonight, so I took my beer and headed to the living room.
A strange sense of deja vu settled over me when my skin prickled. Something was off. Drawing my weapon, I slowly crept through the house. The sounds of paper rustling reached my ear in the silence of the house. It had come from the backroom where Chase and I would work and plan our jobs. Eyeing the intruder through the crack in the door, I watched him looking through my files, blueprints, notes, and other information I had tacked up around the room.
Son of a bitch. Shoving open the door, I saw red at the invasion and within a few moments and two shots later, the intruder was dead and bleeding over my floor. This was not what I wanted to deal with tonight. Walking over to him, I finally noticed the Alloy Kings MC cut and his wrinkled, tanned face that held a wash of grey stubble telling me it was one of their long-time patch holders, Trey ‘Bandit’ Marks. I pilfered through his pockets and found a crumpled piece of paper which held chicken scratch. When I finally deciphered what it said, I felt my teeth clamp shut.
Identify what The Cat knows about the auctions.
Set devices at Aces compound.
There was a checkmark next to my line, but his cellphone didn’t have any outgoing calls or texts, which meant whatever he learned hadn’t gotten out. Good, I thought ruefully. I leaned against the top of my table and dialed Chase’s number.
“Kittycat,” he purred cheerfully in the phone, “you have a good night?”
“There’s an Alloy Kings club member growing cold on my floor and his blood is getting my house dirty, so not really.” I heard shuffling in the background before the start of an engine rumbled.
“Someone broke in?” His voice buzzed with excitement. “Need me to call the Maintenance Man?” I looked back at Bandit, my head tilting on if I wanted the clean-up crew, a.k.a the Maintenance Man, to come out quite yet.
“Not yet, I need to call the Aces.” I grumbled at the thought. “It was Trey Marks.”
“Oh, took out a rival, huh? Fuck me, Kittycat, you get me all sorts of hot and bothered when you talk killing.” I felt my blood pound at the thought of going at it with Chase, but I pushed it away. “I’ll be home shortly, you call your guys.” I hummed an agreement before hanging up. Taking a deep breath, I rang Garrett.
Garrett
The tension between the three of us was at an all time high after Kiera had stormed out of the compound a few hours ago. No patch holders approached us. A few hang-arounds tried to cozy up to me, but I immediately shut them down. I noticed Brooks and Stone doing the same. I was trying to wrack my brain for another alternative to getting Kevin’s Old Lady back since Kiera had said fuck the job, when my phone rang.
“Yes?” I bit out. Not bothering to look at the caller ID, I was shocked when Kiera’s husky voice filled the speaker.
“I got something you’re going to want to see.” She sounded resigned, but still angry. Not surprising, Kiera’s always angry at something.
“What is it, Kiera?” I ground out, not in the mood to deal with more shit. Brooks and Stone’s focus had drifted to me when I spoke her name.
“Well, if you’d just fucking come over here you’d find out. Damn it, Gar,” she muttered. Her voice sounded far away at the sentiment. I don’t think she realized I was able to hear her. I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about her using the nickname Chase had given me. “Bring Brooks and Stone.” The line went dead as she hung up on me.
“We’ve been summoned to Kiera’s house,” I informed them. Brooks looked cautious but intrigued, while Stone looked, well, like Stone. “Apparently, there’s something we need to see.” Without any more discussion, we left the compound on our bikes and rode toward Kiera’s house. It’s a mansion, I thought to myself as I started up the front walkway.
“Kiera?” I called out when I didn’t spot her familiar dirty blonde head or tattooed body in her living space. I absently noticed that my photos still sat on the mantle and despite telling myself I didn’t care, I couldn’t help but be relieved.
“Back here,” her voice filtered out of the room where she worked. First thing I noticed when we entered was her Glock on the top of the table, followed quickly by the dead person lying in a heap on the floor.
“Jesus.” Brooks eyed the Alloy Kings member with an appraising eye. Stone’s steely gaze was focused on Kiera who was casually bent over the table looking through the pile of papers on top.
“What happened?” I demanded. My relief was short-lived. Seething anger flooded my system when I fully processed that my kitten had to kill an Alloy King. She held out a crumpled piece of paper for me to take without looking toward us. I snatched the sheet away from her.
“What’s that?” Brooks read the paper over my shoulder, his jaw ticking in anger as he read the to-do list. “They fucking wanted to blow up our compound? Damn bastards. How did they know you’re The Cat?” Brooks asked, his hand rubbing his jaw.
“Money can buy everything, even information,” Kiera offered blandly, seemingly unconcerned with the entire situation. Stone took the sheet from my hand and read through it multiple times. Before anyone could talk again, the sound of steps walking through the house caught our attention. Pulling out my gun, I held it by my side and eyed the door. I wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who tried to come after Kiera.
“You can put that shit away, Garrett.” She was watching me, her eyes burning in residual anger despite her calm outer shell. “It’s just Chase.” I didn’t put the gun away until I confirmed it was indeed the assassin. He was clothed in his usual dark wash jeans, black shirt, and jacket. How does he wear that shit in the middle of the Nevada desert?
“Ah, good.” He lit up when he saw us all in the room, his eyes not even darting to the dead guy on the floor. “The gang’s all here!” Stone grumbled under his breath, but no one was paying attention to him, our focus on dealing with the threat of the Alloy Kings.
“Who is it?” Brooks walked up to the burly, middle-aged man who was staring at the ceiling with sightless brown eyes.
“Trey ‘Bandit’ Marks,” Kiera supplied distractedly, not looking up from her paper as she scribbled down notes.
“Are you seriously not concerned with the fact you just shot someone?” Stone’s voice was incredulous as he scowled at my stepsister. She briefly glanced at him before brushing him off, her eyes going back to her work.
“I told you, I won’t hesitate to put anyone who’s a threat six feet under. You don’t come into my house, go through my shit, and expect to walk away.” She shrugged as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Chase nodded enthusiastically before turning his bright eyes to us, excited by the idea of her killing.
“Have you killed before?” I clenched my jaw as Brooks took over the conversation. I knew he meant well, but I didn’t want to think about the answer. Kiera shrugged again, content to be blasé about the entire thing.
“Does that matter? We have a dead Alloy King on my floor and a missing Old Lady, the only thing I want to focus on is stealing her back.” My brows shot up. Kiera was acting weird. She never rescinded her promises; if she said she didn’t want to be on the job anymore, she wouldn’t be.
“What’s your motive?” She glared at me when I spoke up, and I stared right back, my arms crossing in front of my chest. “Thought you didn’t want to be on our payroll anymore?” Chase’s brows drew down at that, meaning he hadn’t known what had gone down. Stepping ever so slightly to Kiera, he showed which side of the line he was on, assassin and thief versus us, Aces MC officers.
“I don’t want your damned money, but I’m still doing this fucking job,” she snarled, her anger finally surfacing, but I couldn’t understand where it was coming from or why she would even consider doing this job without being paid.
“Why?” I bit out,
pushing her further to answer me. She started to shake, her eyes glowing in the bright light of the room. Chase’s expression had alarm bells ringing in my head, his normal happy disposition melting into a wave of anger and sadness as he watched Kiera, so I pushed more. “Why, Kiera?”
She finally snapped.
“Because Frankie is one of the main buyers!” she shouted, shoving the papers and blueprints off the counter in a fit of rage. Understanding flooded me. Frankie was the only reason she would lose control. She always held a short fuse and would put up a fight quicker than hell, but she was always in control, unless her father was part of the conversation. Silence filled the space, Kiera glaring at the floor and the mess she had made like it was the source of all her problems.
“Fuck off all of you,” she snapped when she saw the looks of pity from around the room. “I don’t need you fucking feeling sorry for me. I just want to hit Frankie where it’ll hurt the most, his merchandise and his money. Chase, call the Maintenance Man. The rest of you, get the fuck out of my house.”
Chapter 9
April 30th
Tuesday Overnight
Kiera
I was irritable and cranky as I stared at Cory Harbold’s lavish estate. That asshole I shot earlier had stained my favorite pair of riding pants, so I had to give them over to the Maintenance Man and I had to reprint and rehang several sections of my wall in my workspace because of the blood splatter.
“Can’t I just beat the shit out of Harbold for him to give me his files?” I grumbled the question to Chase who was lying on the ground next to me. He chuckled and lowered the binoculars so he could look at me. Despite the nighttime darkness, his steel eyes glowed as they watched me.