Outcast (Southern Rebels MC Book 2)

by Kristin Coley

  “Where is the new girl?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice even. Norah’s mouth twisted. “We just want to make sure she’s safe,” I assured her.

  “I warned her to leave,” Norah admitted and the tightness in my chest loosened slightly. “She seemed nice.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want her to get hurt.”

  “You did good,” Creed complimented her. “We’re going to have a word with Gary.”

  “Be careful,” she whispered, as she ducked into a room marked Dressing Room.

  “Worried about your little liar?” Creed commented and my hands fisted. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Let’s just get Gary,” I growled and we headed for the office. We didn’t bother to knock as we strode into the paneled office.

  “Well, to what do I owe this surprise?” Gary asked jovially, standing up to meet us. “Two Hayes brothers. Been a long time, Cord.”

  “Too long,” I agreed, walking over to him and taking the hand he offered. I twisted it and shoved him face down on the desk. “Seems like you got a little greedy without an enforcer here to keep you in line.”

  “What? No,” Gary laughed nervously. “What are you talking about? I’d never steal from the club.” I shifted his arm a little higher and he gasped. “I’m not stupid, Cord. My life wouldn’t be worth anything if I crossed the Rebels.”

  “Maybe you got a better offer,” I suggested. “Maybe you thought a side business might offset your costs.”

  “We hear you’ve been talking to Rob,” Creed mentioned, squatting so he was eye level with Gary’s face squashed against the desk.

  “He’s a good customer,” Gary mumbled. “He likes the girls, drops a lot of money. We like that, right?”

  “We do,” I agreed heartily. “We absolutely do like the money coming in. It’s when we question where he got it from that we start to have a problem.”

  “See, Gary, Rob’s been dealing and I’m sure you know how the Rebels feel about that.”

  I pressed down and Gary croaked, “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Then we hear you’ve been talking to him,” Creed glanced up at me and then back to Gary. “You can see how that might raise some flags, right, Gary?”

  “He was just paying his tab up,” Gary protested. “I swear. I would never allow drugs in the club.”

  “Yeah, we didn’t say anything about the drugs in the club,” Creed murmured, shaking his head. “But that’s not strictly true is it, Gary?” Creed met his eyes. “Nina was using, yet, you never mentioned a positive drug test. You are drug testing the girls, right?”

  Gary didn’t reply and I planted my elbow in his back. “We’re gonna need to see the books, Gary, and all the files. We know two grand went missing and you blamed Nina –”

  “It was Nina!” He shouted, the words garbled. “It was. I wouldn’t steal.”

  “And if you’re telling the truth we’ll find out. Now, if you’re lying….well that would be unfortunate.”

  Creed’s phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. “’Fraid we’ll have to cut this little meeting short.” He met my eyes and nodded. I released Gary, who slumped down on the desk, defeated. “If you have something you want to tell us, Gary, now would be a good time.”

  He rocked his head back and forth on the desk and I slammed my fist down next to face. “Too bad,” I snarled. “Because when we find out the truth, it’s not gonna go well for you.”

  We collected the books, personnel files, and anything else that looked important. Gary was still curled over the desk when we went to the door. “I wouldn’t leave town, Gary. I’d hate to have to hunt you down.”

  The door slammed behind us as we headed for the parking lot. “Who’s gonna look through all this shit?” I grumbled as we met Hank at the Blazer.

  “Micah,” Creed answered, setting one of the boxes on the backseat. “She’s got an accounting degree apparently.”

  “And she’s bartending for the club?” I asked doubtfully.

  “Among other things,” Creed replied, with a nod to the backseat full of files. “She’ll be able to tell us if he’s been skimming off the top.”

  “Unless he has another set of books,” Hank rumbled, scratching his beard. “Someone should check his house before he gets there.”

  I nodded to Creed, “Why did you cut it short?”

  “Johnny sent a text. Wanted us back at the club, said it was urgent.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. “Maybe I can swing by Gary’s place on the way. See if I can find a second set of books.” I was positive there was a second set after the conversation we’d just had with Norah and then Gary.

  “We gotta head back to the club,” Creed insisted. “Can you get Tori to go check out Gary’s place?” I glared at him, not liking the suggestion, and he held up his hands. “What do you want me to say, Cord? She’s the reason we know any of this. I don’t know what she lied about and at the moment I don’t care. We just need answers and we,” he motioned to the three of us, “Have to get back to the club.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled, knowing he was right, but hating having to ask Tori for a favor. “But I think it’s a bad idea to send her to the house of a guy that wants to silence her.”

  “Tell her to bring her crowbar,” Creed suggested, walking off. “See you at the club.”

  “Hank, you agree this is a stupid idea, right? Sending her into the lion’s den?” I glanced at the ground, my jaw working. “I mean since we don’t even know if we can trust a word out of her.”

  Hank’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “You worried about her safety or her trustworthiness?” He asked, and I opened my mouth, ready to insist I wasn’t concerned about her safety at all. His hand settled on my shoulder, silencing my protest. “You tell me if you think she can take care of herself.”

  I nodded reluctantly. I knew she could. So why was it bothering me to send her straight into danger? I didn’t care about her. “What if she finds the books and hides them? What if she’s working for the other guys?” My arguments weren’t really reasonable and Hank knew it.

  “And what if she brings them straight to you?” He suggested and I met his eyes. “What if you can trust her and she really does want to stop the drugs coming into Friendly? What if you’re wrong about her?”

  I shook his hand off, grabbing the phone off the Blazer’s seat and dialing her number from memory. I got a beep and it took me a second to realize I was supposed to leave a message, since she hadn’t even bothered to state her name. “Tori,” I stated, her name leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “It’s me. I need you to go by Gary’s house, see if he has a second set of books for the Crazy Horse.” I rattled off the address, then paused. “I don’t trust you and I don’t know what your motives are here, but, I swear on all that’s holy, if you screw me or my family, I will bury you in that fucking grave.” I ended the call and met Hank’s blinking stare. “Satisfied?”

  “Boy,” he drawled. “You better hope that girl is the forgiving kind otherwise she gonna string you up by the ball sack.” He made an ominous humming sound, shaking his head as he walked toward his bike.

  The back of my neck started to itch and I rolled my shoulders, trying to erase my sudden unease. I swiped at my phone, dialing another number. “Hey, go to Gary’s place,” I paused while he agreed. “Keep an eye out.” When he asked for what, I answered, “You’ll know when you see it.”

  I ended the call, sliding into the Blazer and cranking the engine. I wasn’t sure what was so important that Johnny felt the need to call us all back to the club, but at least I knew Tori was taken care of.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tori

  I tugged the phone out of my pocket, just missing the call. My forehead furrowed when I saw it was from Cord. A minute later, I got a voicemail alert.

  “Son of a donkey’s ass,” I cursed after listening to the message, or more accurately, order. “He didn’t even bother to say please, thank you, or kiss my ass,” I grumbled under my breath, even
as I made a right turn toward Gary’s house, instead of going straight which would take me back to the cemetery. “I should ignore him,” I told myself. “A second set of books doesn’t bring me any closer to where the drugs are coming in. It would only benefit Cord and the club so they can prove Gary’s a lying thief.”

  My little speech didn’t change my path though, as I continued to head toward Gary’s house. Gary intended to come after me, I knew that, but if the Rebels got to him first….well, I doubted there would be much left of Gary to bother with me.

  I nodded to myself, satisfied with my roundabout logic for helping Cord. I was not following his orders, I comforted myself, but insuring my own safety. I slowed as I came toward the row of houses, checking the numbers to find Gary’s house. A familiar form leaned against a sleek black bike and I walked straight up to him.

  “Are you my watch dog?” I questioned Crew and he lifted an eyebrow, making a show of glancing up and down the street.

  “I was told to keep an eye out,” he answered, grinning.

  “For what?” I questioned, crossing my arms since I already had a good idea.

  “I’d know it when I saw it,” he replied, a dimple flashing in one cheek. “I’m guessing it’s you, Cemetery Girl.”

  “I prefer Tori.” I turned my back on him, checking out Gary’s place. “You up for a little B&E?”

  I felt more than saw him shrug. “Why not?”

  “I like your casual disregard for the law,” I said as we walked across the street. “Now, if I was a douche like Gary, where would I hide my spare key?”

  We looked at each other and then both looked down. “Door mat,” we chorused. I waved my hand, “I’ll let you do the honors.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he replied, every inch the gentleman.

  “Your momma teach you those manners?” I asked as he unlocked the door and he paused.

  “No, Cord did,” he answered, surprising me. He gave a quick twist of the key and we heard the lock click. “Is it actually breaking and entering if you have the key?”

  “That’s a question for a lawyer, but let’s not find out.” I eased the door open, my gaze sweeping the room. “Bad time to be asking, but he does live alone, right?”

  “Yeah,” Crew answered, following behind me. “He, uh, brings home one of the girls if he wants company.”

  “How many laws does that break?” I groused, shaking my head.

  “I don’t know,” Crew said uncertainly. “None if it’s consensual?”

  I eyed him, “Your brothers teach you about consensual sex?”

  “Yes,” he answered instantly.

  “Kudos to them, but a head’s up? If they work for you, consensual or not, it’s not a good idea. Same if they’re under your protection, because consent and obligation can look awfully similar.”

  His expression turned contemplative and I nodded toward the hall. “You go that way and look.” We separated, searching room by room for the extra set of books. We met up in the living room, both of us empty-handed.

  “Find anything?” I asked and he shook his head. I sighed. “It’s possible there’s nothing to find.” I glanced at him. “Why couldn’t your brother do his own dirty work?”

  “Johnny called a meeting. They had to go in,” Crew replied, shrugging when sent him a questioning look. “I’m not technically a club member yet. He wanted the officers.”

  “Why you want to join anyway?”

  He sent me a puzzled look. “It’s the family business.” He caught my blank look. “Our dad founded the club with Johnny,” he explained. “It’s kind of our legacy.”

  “Your dad died,” I remarked, taking another pass through the drawers in the kitchen.

  “Yeah, when I was four.” Crew searched the cabinets. “Cord and Creed basically raised me.”

  “What about your mom?” So far I hadn’t heard one mention of a mom from any of them.

  “She was around, but she,” he hesitated, glancing at me. “She a dancer at the Crazy Horse.” I lifted my brows in a ‘what of it’ look. “She wasn’t home most nights and then –” I stopped looking through my drawer and glanced at him. “She developed a bad habit,” he finished, his gaze straying to my arms.

  “Where is she now?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “We sent her to rehab a year ago. I haven’t spoken to her since.”

  “You could call her,” I suggested, keeping my head down.

  “Phone works both ways,” he responded, his voice harsh. I gave a tiny nod, moving to the next drawer as he slammed a cabinet shut. “I called her once. She didn’t answer.”

  “Rehab’s not easy,” I admitted. “A lot of people, parents especially, feel ashamed.” I glanced at him. “They like to talk about making amends when you’re in rehab. Rebuilding relationships with family and friends.”

  “Then why hasn’t she called me?” He asked and I could see the hurt little boy hiding inside the man. “Why didn’t she answer when I called? It’s been a fucking year.”

  I shook my head, tugging on my lower lip with my teeth. “Because it’s some scary shit,” I said honestly. “Being sober, knowing what you did? It sucks. And the people you hurt?” I get out a pained laugh. “Knowing what you did to the people you loved? That’s the worst.” I shrugged uncomfortably. “Call her again. If you want to. She might not think she’s worthy of you.”

  “What about your family? Is that why you don’t talk to them? You don’t think you’re worthy?” He questioned, turning the tables on me.

  I shook my head, biting my lip hard enough to make it bleed. “Not exactly,” I told him, shoving away from the drawers. “If those books are here, he’s a hell of a lot better at hiding them than he was the house key.”

  “Way to change the subject,” Crew said mockingly. “We haven’t even found a computer or laptop. How does the dude watch porn?”

  I squinted at him in disbelief. “He runs a strip club.”

  “So?”

  “Why would he need? You know what, never mind. Not a conversation I want to have with you.” I shook my head, missing Crew’s smirk.

  “Would you rather have it with my brother?” He suggested and I flipped him the bird.

  “Did you look in there?” I pointed to a pair of folding doors, just now noticing them.

  Crew shrugged. “Laundry. Washer and dryer. I doubt he put them there.”

  I frowned, thinking. “If I was a dumbass, would I hide my dirty laundry in the laundry room?”

  We glanced at each other, “Yes,” we echoed in unison, each grabbing a bi-fold door. We looked behind and around the washer and dryer, checked the cabinet, and then heard a car door slam.

  “Fuuuck,” Crew drawled out. “He’s here.”

  I hopped on the dryer, reaching above the cabinet in the empty space. My fingers rested on something and I tugged it out. “Yes,” I hissed, opening the box. “Holy shit,” I thrust the box at Crew. “Get this to your brother, it’s the proof they need.” We heard the front door open.

  “How are we going to get out?” He whispered, curling the box under his arm like a football. “We can’t go out the back.”

  “Out the front then. I’ll distract him.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he hissed, his voice cracking slightly. “In fact, I think it’s a terrible idea.”

  “You have a motorcycle.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “You can get help a lot faster?”

  “Really not selling the idea.”

  “They’re going to want to see what’s in that box. Trust me, I can take care of myself.” I pushed him. “He’s not gonna let us leave with that box. This is our best shot.”

  I spun around him, darting down the hall before he could grab me. I slowed when I came to the living room, my footsteps alerting Gary to my presence. “I heard you were looking for me?” I smiled, lifting my crowbar. “Well, here I am.”

  Chapter Seventeen
/>   Cord

  I entered the club behind Creed, unsurprised to find it empty. Whatever Johnny wanted to tell us must be strictly need to know. We set the file boxes behind the bar and went to the office. Everyone else was at the table and I nodded to them. Creed took his spot next to Johnny and I headed for the end of the table, pausing when I saw a familiar face.

  “Noah?” I clasped his hand as a grin split my face. “What are you doing here?”

  “He’s the reason we’re here,” Johnny answered from behind me. “He’s got news and its not good.” I nodded, releasing him as I took a seat.

  Noah exhaled, glancing at us. “Monty was released from prison this morning.”

  “What?” Creed yelled, half standing. “How in the hell?”

  Noah raised his hands. “Monty requested a review of his case, said it was mishandled. When they went to look at the evidence, it was gone.”

  “Gone?” I asked carefully, while noticing Creed and Clutch exchange a glance. “As in the evidence disappeared?”

  “Yes, the gun that connected Monty to the murders he was charged with is gone. Disappeared from the evidence room.” Noah glanced around the room, the barest hesitation when he came to Creed. “No evidence, no conviction. He was pardoned and released.”

  “And we’re just now finding out about this?” Johnny mentioned, his voice dangerously low.

  Noah’s glance was apologetic but his back was straight. “I just found out about it,” he defended. “The lawyers went through the Chief.”

  “Your uncle,” Johnny reminded him and Noah grunted.

  “Yeah, and you know he doesn’t trust me.”

  “If evidence went missing, that points to a dirty cop,” I said, waving at Noah, “And if you’re the one that arrested him, I don’t think you removed the same evidence that convicted him.”

  “I didn’t,” Noah swore, his expression drawn. “But someone in the department did.”

  “The Chief,” Creed declared, hitting the table. “He has it in for us. He’s the one that arrested me for beating Fat Willy.”