by Davis, Jen
Shivering, she turned up the heater. The fire in her veins Kane’s arms had ignited turned to ice with the prospect of facing Nathan tonight, but at least after this, it would all be over. The four weeks she’d promised her father weren’t nearly finished, but he’d changed the terms of their deal once. Now it was her turn. It’s not like he could take the money back now. He’d completed the wire transfer less than an hour ago.
She hovered on the cusp of starting over with Kane. He deserved honesty. God knew, keeping secrets from him had only led to heartbreak. She would not have the shadow of her ties to Nathan jeopardize her chance at happiness.
If she wanted a clean slate, she needed to break up with him now and for good.
Idling in front of Nathan’s building, tendrils of doubt crept in. Maybe she should have met him in a public place. He’d never lay a finger on her in front of an audience. It was too late to change the plan now, but she wouldn’t be a sitting duck. Leaning to the side, she unlatched the glove compartment and slipped the contents into her purse.
With a deep breath, she surrendered her car to the valet and forged on into the elegant lobby. Each step towards the elevator felt like walking through molasses, but she forced one foot in front of the other. The fingers on her left hand gripped her purse, while she lifted the right to knock.
Nathan swung the door open before her knuckles met the wood. His normally perfect blond hair was slightly askew, one gelled lock falling over his forehead. His mouth twisted, and the dim light from the single lamp in the corner cast shadows across his face. As he tugged her into the room, the unmistakable whiskey scent of Chivas Regal came off him in waves.
“Do you have any idea how many times I have called you over the past few days?” he snarled.
At least fifty. “I’m sorry, Nathan.” She willed herself to sound contrite, but his grip on her arm didn’t ease. “I’ve been working on a deal for Cooper, and it’s kept me very busy.”
“I don’t give a damn about your silly little company. You have an obligation to me, Amanda. Ignoring me is very disrespectful.” Even in the low light, his eyes gleamed with malice.
Rip off the Band-Aid. “You’re right. You deserve someone who can give you the time and attention you deserve.” She cleared her throat. “Right now, I don’t think I can.”
Nathan released her arm with a dark chuckle and gave her his back. He moved to the kitchen and flipped on the light to refill his highball glass. “You don’t think you can,” he echoed, knocking back his drink, then pouring another. He murmured something unintelligible as he refilled the glass.
She stepped closer. “I appreciate the time we’ve spent together, but I think we’d be better off as friends.”
He was smirking when he turned back to respond, but in seconds, his eyes bulged, and his cheeks mottled. The thick crystal glass cracked as he slammed it on the countertop and amber liquid pooled around it. “Friends?” he thundered. “As if I would lower myself to be friends with a two-bit whore like you.”
She took an involuntary step back, expecting him to advance.
Instead, he bellowed, “Lights. Full.” His smart-home features followed his command, triggering the can lights in the ceiling. He dropped his voice. “Who is he?”
She shook her head. There was no way he could know about Kane.
Nathan slammed his hand on the counter next to his abandoned glass. “You barely let me touch you. All your pretty words about waiting for the right time, and you were out fucking some guy tonight. Don’t you dare deny it. The evidence is all over your goddamn face.”
Her fingers flew to her lips.
“I should’ve realized you’d like it rough, baby. Maybe I should grow a beard and see what I can do to your delicate skin. Or maybe I’ll take it out on your ass. See how much your sidepiece wants you after I’m done with you tonight.” With a sweep of his arm, he sent the glass crashing to the floor. He unbuckled his belt as he moved toward her.
He stopped when she pulled the Colt out of her purse and pointed it at his chest.
“No.” The steadiness of her own voice shocked her. “You won’t touch my ass or any other part of me. Not tonight. Not ever again.”
Nathan narrowed his eyes. “You expect me to believe you would shoot me?”
“You expect me to let you abuse me?” She scoffed. “I was a fool to take it for as long as I did. I promise you, it’s over. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. And for damn sure, don’t touch me. Or I will do whatever is necessary to protect myself.”
“You’re going to regret this,” he hissed.
“Not as much as I regret ever taking your shit to begin with.” She edged backward toward the exit and kept the gun trained on Nathan as she used her other hand to open the door.
Then she was free.
***
Amanda eyed her brother.
Mike Cooper excelled at celebrating good news. Generally, because he loved any excuse for a celebration and predictably partied with beer, fried food, or both.
His medications had ruled out any alcohol for weeks now, but he could still put away French fries like nobody’s business. One after another, he shoved the ketchup-laden potatoes into his mouth, barely taking a moment to chew.
“Stop staring at me, and eat your own damn food,” he grumbled, but he didn’t seem terribly bothered. He got to pick the restaurant, and Zaxby’s topped the list of his favorites.
Conversations overlapped across the room. A variety of people enjoying their lunch breaks filled the seats, from the corporate-type guy next to them in a suit and tie, to the table full of utility workers in their Georgia Power Company uniforms. Fried chicken, it seemed, was the great equalizer.
She raised her hands in surrender. “Forgive me, Oh Great One. I couldn’t help but watch you suck down those fries. Somebody had to be ready in case you needed the Heimlich.”
He snorted and kept eating. The return of his appetite had to mean something good for his recovery, as did his willingness to come out and celebrate their official groundbreaking at the new site.
“So,” Mike drawled, smearing his chicken through the mountain of ketchup he’d mixed with the Zaxby sauce, “I don’t suppose you know if Kane is going to be at the new development today.”
She shook her head. Even though she knew it was far-fetched, part of her had hoped to find him waiting when she returned to her condo last night. The first thing she did when she woke was call Robby Jordan, the foreman’s assistant, to find out who was on the crew sheet. Kane had been assigned to the nearly finished project a few miles away.
“I, uh, did see him last night. Kane, I mean. He came over to my place.” Her cheeks burned as she sipped her Arnold Palmer. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember why she’d ever stopped drinking these.
Wonder of wonders, Mike looked up from his food. His jaw was slack. “You said Kane was at your condo?”
She hummed against her straw. “I took your advice. I told him the truth.”
He spun his hand in front of him, urging her to say more.
“It’s complicated.” She sighed. “Or maybe I made it complicated. I wanted to protect him. I still do. His stupid fucking biker gang is about to ruin his life all over again. You know they’re getting into drugs now?”
Mike blinked slowly. “Too much information and not enough.” Shaking his head, he took a sip of his soda.
“We kissed.”
Her brother choked on his drink, and Dr. Pepper sprayed out of his nose onto the remnants of his meal.
With a shudder, she pushed her napkins toward him, but he was already wiping his face with the back of his arm.
“Forget the napkins. Tell me everything, and don’t skip a single detail, or Cindy will never forgive me.”
She didn’t doubt it. Cindy had always been a romantic. “Some guy approached my dad, pretty much offering him money if he helped get the Skulls out of the running to deal drugs in some neighborhood where he wants to do it.”
Mike nodded. “And you
r dad took the deal.”
“No one seems surprised.” Was she the only one? “Anyway, they’ve got something planned to take Kane’s crew down. Of course, I had to warn him.”
“Of course.” Mike batted his eyelashes at her.
She didn’t take the bait. “He came over, and we got to talking. I told him why I left, and I think he understood because then he was kissing me. God, Mike, it was like I was alive for the first time in years. He—”
“No.” Mike covered his ears with his hands. “I’m still your brother. I don’t need those kinds of details. Save the dirty bits for my wife. You can expect the full inquisition tonight.”
“Nothing too dirty,” she said primly. “Nathan called and interrupted us. I left to end things with him. He didn’t take it well.”
Nodding, Mike rummaged around in the food still in front of him before making a face and pushing it away. “So now what?”
“The million-dollar question, isn’t it?” She gathered the trash from the table and tossed it in the can.
They made the ride to the new development quickly and without much conversation, which gave her time to relive Kane’s kisses over and over again. When they got out of the car, she stood behind Mike’s wheelchair, ready to push.
He reached up and touched the back of her hand. “You’re going to figure this out. I don’t know if the man Kane is now is still right for you, but I do know you have unfinished business together. I’m glad you’ve finally stopped running from it. I love you, sis, and I will be there for you any way I can.”
She made a noise acknowledging his words as she patted down the strands of hair the chilly breeze threatened to pull from her simple twist. Time to be professional. Her Ice Queen mask in place, she pushed her brother toward the crew assembled at Lot 258. Not too many guys yet, since the work hadn’t started. Only Xander, the foreman, his assistant Robby, and three other guys. The clean-cut African American guy with a polo she recognized as Matt York. The guy with the burns on his neck was the latest recruit, Evan something. And next to him was his Ranger buddy, Cyrus Amir. The man was of Middle Eastern descent, and more than a little good looking, with sharp cheekbones and wavy dark hair longer than she’d ever seen it, which was to say it was no longer in the buzzcut he used to sport.
Robby, Matt, and Cyrus all eyed her with—not hostility, but maybe suspicion or wariness. Obviously, the guys were aware of some of the dynamics between her and Kane. But she was still the boss, and some lines they couldn’t cross, even for their friend.
The corners of Xander’s eyes crinkled when he saw Mike. “Michael Cooper. What an unexpected surprise.” He crossed the short distance from the trailer on the side of the property to shake Mike’s hand.
“I wouldn’t miss the chance to be here for the kickoff of the new project, or to see you, old friend.” Mike had worked with Xander since before Charlie died. It was one of the reasons Kane was assigned to Xander’s crew: minimum interaction with Amanda. It made total sense for everyone here to look to him as their boss. She was just the bitch who dumped their buddy a hundred years ago.
She stepped back to let everyone catch up with Mike and for him to meet Evan. They still had another five minutes before Jared Berringer’s scheduled arrival to give his official blessing on the start of the project.
“I know you’re the boss.” She startled at Robby’s voice behind her, then she turned to face him. His big brown eyes looked troubled.
She tilted her head, waiting for him to continue.
He furrowed his brow. “I love my job, and I know I’m taking a risk by saying this, but Kane is my friend.” He cleared his throat. “I scheduled him at the other house today because I knew you would be here. It, um, upsets him to see you.”
This guy had some unexpected fortitude. It took some epic balls to have a conversation like this with her. She raised her eyebrow.
His cheeks pinkened. “What I’m trying to say—what I was wondering—are you, could you maybe give me a heads up when you’re coming? Then, I could assign him to something else.” Robby couldn’t be more than twenty-two or twenty-three years old. With his shuffling feet and his bangs falling into his eyes, he could have passed for a teenager.
She should have resented his nerve, but she couldn’t help but be a little impressed. The guy was obviously apprehensive as hell, but Charlie always said, It isn’t courage if you’re not afraid. “What do you think Kane would say if he knew you were talking to me like this?”
Robby blew the hair out of his eyes, giving her an unobstructed view of his defiant glare. No fear now. “I don’t care. He needs somebody to look out for him.”
She smiled despite herself. “Yes, he does.”
Robby blinked rapidly as she patted him on the shoulder. It wasn’t clear whether he noticed she never gave him the promise he asked for. There was no chance for him to object either way.
Jared had arrived. He shook hands with Mike and followed suit with Xander and all the guys in the crew. When she approached, he greeted her with a warm smile. “Miss Griffin, so good to see you.” He gave her hand a firm squeeze. “I have a photographer here to take some PR photos for our website.”
The woman snapped a few shots. Everyone exchanged pleasantries about the partnership, then Jared left as quickly as he’d arrived. The job here today was done.
As she waited for Mike to finish his goodbyes with Xander, she felt a prickle of unease on the back of her neck. Was someone watching her from the copse of trees across the street?
She spun around, trying to catch whoever it was in the act, but she saw nothing. Even after berating herself for her obvious paranoia, she couldn’t stop herself from looking over her shoulder one more time as she got in the car.
Nothing.
Shivering, despite the warmth from her wool peacoat, she cranked the engine and threw the car into gear the moment Mike settled beside her. Paranoid or not, she was ready to get out of here, even if an inquisition from her sister-in-law waited at her next stop.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kane
The meth operation in the clubhouse had progressed even further since the last time Kane had been here. The pool table now served as a work surface for two of his brothers. With his bald head and towering height, no one could mistake Cue Ball for anyone else, despite the surgical mask covering his face. A blender whirred in front of him, powder swishing around inside. A garbage can overflowed with boxes of cold pills on the floor beside him.
Frank appeared to be mixing some of the powder from a plastic bowl with…was that fertilizer? Three partially filled soda bottles were lined up on the table beside him.
He moved deeper into the house where his mom hunched over the kitchen counter, doing some kind of surgery on Double-A batteries. A few more two-liter bottles bubbled on the table where Scott presided with several containers of Lye.
The room smelled like cat piss.
“We’ve got to get all of this shit out of here.”
Scott looked up but didn’t move from his position.
“I’m serious. Where’s Malcolm?”
His mother answered. “Out in the backyard, I think. Didn’t think it would be safe to smoke in here.”
With a roll of his eyes, he ventured out into the cold. Sure enough, his father stood in the carport, smoking next to a portable heater. The coils burned orange in the small box.
“We’ve got to clean up the mess inside the house.”
“Oh?” his father mocked. “Do we?”
“I’m serious.” He moved closer, so he could speak softly. “Someone is trying to set us up. I’ll bet you anything we’re gonna have a raid here. The idea is to put us out of business, so the Soldiers can get a foothold.”
Malcolm stood up straighter. There were few people in the world he liked less than David Bennett or the club president, Billy Meers. “Where did you hear this?”
He’d been dreading the question. His father had made no secret of his disapproval when Mandy had been p
art of his life. He’d only met her once, but like Scott, he loved to call her Princess Bitch and said Kane was better off once they split. Any intel from her would be dismissed out of hand. But his father would need some source to take his warning seriously.
So he lied. “My friend Brick. The guy who hired us for the Sucre hit. He, uh, said he heard it from a reliable source. I trust him. If he says it’s going down, it will.”
His father scratched at his beard, considering his words. “Meers is behind this?”
“Bennett. I don’t know if Cue told you, but he gave us some shit out at the park the other day too. Thinks they’re entitled to dealing, part of their white crusade or whatever.”
Malcolm took a deep pull from his cigarette, then blew out a cloud of smoke. “When is this supposed to happen?”
“Within the week.” He dug his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, his fingerless gloves doing little to provide warmth. “We need to clean up now. Find somewhere to store our product and our cash. The guns too. The cops know who we are, so our regular places are out.”
Gritting his teeth, his father tossed the butt of his cigarette on the ground and smashed it under his boot. “What do you suggest?”
To get out of the drug business.
They should have never gone into it in the first place. The truth would do nothing to help his cause, though. It would only start the same argument over again. “A self-storage place could work. Get one of the prospects or the girls to rent one in their name. Something no one can trace back to us. And we need to do it fast, or we’re going to end up in jail.”
Building an argument around keeping his freedom was a language his father understood. Malcolm served a six-month stint on a gun charge once. He’d said a dozen times since then, he’d never go back. “Fine. Let’s get it done.”
He followed his dad back into the kitchen, where Malcolm barked orders for everyone to start cleaning up. Scott scowled, then shot Kane a look that could melt asphalt. “You responsible for this?” He stomped around the table, vengeance burning in his eyes. “You can’t fucking admit I was right about this. Do you have any idea how much money this could mean for us? And you want to throw it all away on some Boy Scout notion about drugs being bad?”
