“It’s just a genuine coincidence that she was already retiring and selling her diner when the Swords came knocking on her door?” Ink asked.
“I believe so,” Master said. “The Ghosts were making their way toward Swords country, and the Swords were trying to track down Breezy. It sounded to me as if they were looking for her more to see whether she knew her old man, Bridges, and brother, Junk, had been killed than they thought she had anything to do with the massacre. It wasn’t like Bridges wanted anyone to know what he was doing. He might have been president of the chapter, but he was stealing from the club.”
“Code, what do you have on Delia Swanson?” Steele asked.
“She’s sixty-six. Worked since she was fourteen. Married once, widowed. Her husband, Braxton Swanson, died five years into their marriage, an accident at his work. They never had children, and she never remarried. She bought the diner with the insurance money and worked her ass off to make that grow into a thriving business. A few parking tickets over the years, but for the most part, she has nothing on her record. She’s clean, no affiliation whatsoever to any club.”
“How did the Swords track Breezy to New Mexico?” Savage asked.
They looked at one another. Player’s heart dropped. None of them had ever thought to ask that one simple question. How had Breezy’s father and brother found her in New Mexico? Code had looked for her, and he was the best at finding anyone. She’d gone completely off-grid. Ironically, it had been Steele who had taught her how. He hadn’t thought she would ever be impossible for him to find.
Code sighed and glanced at Steele, clearly knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer he’d come up with. “Breezy called one of the women in the Swords’ club—Jerri, it looks like—back about a month after you kicked her out. Her father lived with Jerri for a few months when Breezy was around twelve. Jerri was pretty entrenched in another chapter of the club and was the old lady of one of the men by that time and so fairly protected against Bridges. My guess, when Bridges came looking for information, Jerri volunteered it rather than take a chance that she would get in trouble with him or the club. She knew the call had come from New Mexico under Delia Swanson’s name. It wasn’t that difficult for Bridges to find the diner. I’m guessing he only told a few of his best friends, the ones he felt he could blackmail or bribe or he knew were completely loyal to him, what he was doing.”
Steele stood up, walked to the corner of the room and called his wife. It was necessary they verify everything. No one was going to take chances with Breezy’s life, least of all Steele. He stood for a moment after he ended the call, back to the wall, his arm across his chest, head down briefly before returning to his seat.
“Yeah, when she realized she was really pregnant, she felt it was only right to tell me. She suspected, but didn’t know for sure until after she was gone. She waited to take a test because she was trying to find a place to settle. When she knew, she wanted to get in touch with me, but I had blocked her. She called Jerri, knowing Jerri had a pulse on everyone in the club. She was told she wasn’t allowed anywhere near the Swords, that she’d been blacklisted from the club and that Jerri would get in trouble for even talking to her. I’d had Breezy banned.”
“Did she tell Jerri about the baby?” Czar persisted.
“No. Breezy apologized to Jerri, said she wasn’t aware she’d been banned and hung up. That was the end of the conversation. She said she forgot about even calling her. She was really upset that I’d made it so permanent that she couldn’t even reach out to me. When her father and brother showed up so much later, she didn’t even connect the two events. They came looking for Breezy, to bring her back. They didn’t know about the baby until they saw him and realized he was mine. That was when Bridges got the bright idea of making Breezy kill Czar and Jackson Deveau,” Steele said. “He wanted to punish her.”
“Did you tell her Delia was here?” Keys asked.
“Not a chance. If this goes sideways,” Steele said, “Breezy would be heartbroken. She’s had enough heartbreak in her life. Until Absinthe says Delia’s on the up-and-up, she doesn’t get anywhere near my woman or boy.”
“As soon as the meeting’s over, we’ll bring Delia to the clubhouse. Bannister is having dinner with her at the bar right now. They’re eating Alena’s famous chicken. I think he’s a little smitten,” Reaper said. “Anya’s watching her. You know how she is about Bannister. She’s so protective over that old man, you’d think he’s her fuckin’ father.”
“Poor Delia,” Preacher commiserated. “She’s probably the nicest woman on the face of the earth. She took Breezy in, gave her a job and a home, and everyone’s treating her like she’s got the plague.”
“Fortunately,” Lana said, “she has no idea. She thinks we’re all being nice.” Lana was one of the only two female survivors out of the eighteen who had made it out of the hellhole they’d been raised in. She was gorgeous. There was no denying the fact. Tall, beautiful figure, sleek black hair, shiny as a raven’s wing, perfect bone structure—she was the type of woman who could stop traffic when she walked down the street.
“We are nice,” Alena said, turning to glare at Destroyer. She was shorter than Lana by a couple of inches, with natural platinum hair and brilliant sapphire-blue eyes. “You didn’t come by the restaurant last night to eat. You’re Torpedo Ink. The brothers eat at the restaurant.”
Destroyer shrugged. “Don’t like you uncomfortable in your own place.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, hotshot. And don’t piss me off. I cook it, you eat it, like everyone else.”
“Afraid you might spit in my food.”
A few snickers were hastily covered up when Alena turned that hot glare around the table. “Don’t give me ideas.” She gave a little sniff of disdain, managing to look haughty as only Alena or Lana could do, and turned her attention back to Czar. “Anything else on the agenda? I’ve got a restaurant to run.”
“We’ve got to get this grocery store crap done once and for all. Who knew it was going to be such a big fuckin’ deal to find a manager?” Czar said. “Although Blythe did warn me. So did Inez. We’ve got a few more applicants for the position, but Inez has only one she’s willing to turn the store over to. She’s just about done with running it, says she has to get back to Sea Haven. Frank, her husband, doesn’t like running the store there without her. I can’t blame him; this has taken far longer than we expected,” Czar conceded.
“That’s because Inez keeps shooting down every single person who tries for the job,” Keys pointed out.
“True,” Master agreed. “But in her defense, not a single one had any experience, and I don’t think they knew how to do any math.”
Code tossed the three files on the table. “Inez is right. The first two are total crap. One is a drug addict and has been in prison twice for theft. How he thinks he can hide that from us, I don’t know. The second one looks good enough on paper, but she’s gotten hurt on every job she’s had within three weeks of taking the job and gone out on disability. A great con she’s been running for years.”
“Why the hesitation over the third?” Savage asked. He was a dangerous-looking man. One of their go-to get-it-done men.
Czar sighed. “She’s so far overqualified she’s completely out of our ballpark.”
“I have to agree with Czar,” Code said. “She went to school in Germany; her undergrad was international business. Her MBA with an emphasis in international retail management was paid for by her company while she did a retail marketing apprenticeship/mentorship with that company. They snapped her up, an international grocery chain, immediately after she graduated. She worked for them and traveled all over various countries. She’s a freakin’ genius and definitely knows what she’s doing managing a chain of stores, let alone a little grocery store like ours.”
“What the hell is she doing in Caspar?” Savage asked, suspicion underlining his tone
.
“Her grandmother brought her to the United States when her parents, grandfather and uncle were killed in a boating accident out at sea. The grandmother, Anat Gamal—and that is her maiden name; they don’t take the husband’s name where they’re from—was smart. She recognized that things were going south for women in her country and she contacted a friend of hers, Lizz Johnson, here in the States. They knew each other from school. Anat Gamal’s family was very progressive, and she was sent to schools in both England and Germany. She met Johnson in Germany and they both attended school in England as well and were roommates. Johnson helped her and her granddaughter immigrate to the United States. That was seventeen years ago. They became citizens almost immediately.”
Code looked around the table. “I have to say I really admire Anat Gamal. I’d like to meet her someday. She was smart getting out when she did. She didn’t bring much with her, but she made a good life for her and her granddaughter in Los Angeles. They both worked their asses off.”
Player found his heart beginning to pound hard, accelerating until he thought it might burst. Code refused to look his way. He wasn’t meeting his gaze no matter how much Player willed him to. He kept tapping the file he had on the applicant. It was fairly thick. Code always managed to dig deep really fast, using multiple computers to get what he wanted on whomever he was interested in.
“The younger Ms. Gamal was raised in Los Angeles, but like her grandmother, worked while she was in school, holding down several jobs and contributing to paying off the debt they owed to Lizz Johnson. Johnson gave Anat the money to get started. That debt was paid in full. I looked into Johnson’s bank account and every penny was repaid.”
“For fuck’s sake, Code,” Player burst out.
Code ignored him, but there was a faint grin on his face that told Player Anat Gamal was his private dancer’s grandmother.
“When Anat’s granddaughter went to Germany to college, Anat moved to Sea Haven. Lizz Johnson had retired to Sea Haven several years earlier and talked about it so much that Anat decided to retire there. The granddaughter’s paycheck was extremely high, but her overhead was low. Her company paid for travel, living accommodations and just about any other expenses. Both she and her grandmother always lived frugally, so she bought her grandmother the home Anat is living in outright. It’s a beautiful piece of property in Sea Haven, and they don’t come cheap.”
“If they have money, why is she so desperate for a job?” Alena asked.
“Most of the granddaughter’s money is tied up, and she’d take hefty penalties to get it out. That said, she could do it and she’d still be well off. My guess is, she figures she can work and pay the bills and leave the money where it is. These women have been careful all their lives, and they’ll continue to be. They don’t mind hard work.”
Player leaned back in his chair, running both hands through his hair repeatedly. It couldn’t be that big of a coincidence. She couldn’t just drop into his lap like this. “Code? Come on, man. Stop giving me a hard time. Is that Zyah? Is she the one applying for the job?”
Code flashed a grin at him. “The applicant is Zyah Gamal. She lives with her grandmother, Anat Gamal. She’s unmarried and is twenty-seven years old. Smart as hell, Player, and far too good for you.”
“You know this woman, Player?” Czar asked.
“Yes. Hell yes. She’s mine.” He claimed her without a qualm. “Doesn’t know it yet and doesn’t like me very much right now, but she’s definitely mine.”
Czar scowled at him. “What do you mean, she doesn’t like you very much? That doesn’t sound good to me.”
“I might have screwed up with her,” Player admitted.
“Might have?” Preacher echoed.
“Yeah, just a little,” Maestro said, nudging Code. “Came in begging us to look at the security tape after the party. Wanted to see if his dream girl was real.”
“Made her cry,” Destroyer said. “She left in tears.” He crossed his arms and leveled his gaze at Player.
“Can’t have that,” Savage said. “We need this woman to work that store. I’m not doin’ that again.”
Lana rolled her eyes. “You never actually worked in the store, Savage. You, Destroyer, Reaper or Maestro didn’t ever pull a shift.”
“Are you kidding me?” Alena burst out. She glared at Czar. “Are you kidding me, Czar?” she repeated, sounding outraged. “All of us had to pull a shift at that store. Why did they get a pass? It isn’t like Savage is busy or anything. He just sits around sharpening his knife.”
“I offered to cut up vegetables in your kitchen for you,” Savage said. “Don’t be jealous because some of us are manly men and we have to look pretty and be ready to defend you from the evils around you.”
Alena flipped him off. “No one said the lot of you are in the least bit manly.”
Savage flexed his muscles.
Lana laughed and punched him. “They did all the grunt work, Alena. Inez refused to have them scaring the customers in the front of the store where anyone might see them. They unloaded trucks and shelved everything in the middle of the night.”
Alena looked from Savage to Reaper, Destroyer and then Maestro. “I can’t see it in Maestro. He’s so sweet. The others, yes, but Maestro? Why did Inez blackball him?”
“He gave her the death stare the moment she tried him on the register behind the counter,” Lana explained and burst out laughing. “That was all it took. He was sent to do the grunt work with the rest of the scary boys.”
“Let’s reel it back in,” Czar said. “I’m serious here, Player. We need this woman. The club needs this grocery store up and running in the community. We need to make it work. Inez has done her best, but she can’t stay forever. We’re trying to fit in here. What I really like about Zyah Gamal is the tie back to the community. Aside from the fact that she’s more than qualified, the woman’s grandmother is friends with Lizz Johnson, and she’s a fixture in Sea Haven and a good friend of Inez’s. You might claim her, and ordinarily I would say any brother who wants a woman, we all do what we can to help him out, but in this case, she’s a real asset to the club. If you’re not certain, Player, or you think she’ll head for the hills, then you’ve got to stay away from her, because she’s a huge benefit to us. Frankly, we need her.”
“I have to see her again, because she seems too good to be true. If what I think happened really did, I’d be a fool to let her get away. I was so out of it. Too long without sleep, but I swear she was able to heal my brain after I tore it up keeping Master and me covered when the Swords walked into that diner. We had to have the illusion around us for hours. I was in a bad way by the time I got back. I was seeing caterpillars dropping loops of fog around Jackson Deveau’s neck when he stopped me on the highway. The migraine was bad.”
“Waterspouts and lobsters,” Maestro affirmed. “Drinks rising in the air and pouring out by themselves. Women calling for the queen’s maids.”
Loud laughter burst around the table, just as Player knew it would. He forced himself to smile. “I was seeing the White Rabbit,” Player added. “It was that bad. I was even afraid for Maestro, thinking he was about to become the White Rabbit, grow ears and everything.”
“I had the truck keys,” Maestro explained. “Not the pocket watch.”
Again, there was laughter.
“I made a run for my room after taking a shower.” Player smiled at Lana. “You had your special touch in the bathroom, that scent you like. It helped enough to get me down that hallway. It was moving, and the door was shrinking. Maestro had closed all the doors leading to my room, thankfully.” He gave them a little grin, like it was all a big joke, when it wasn’t.
He was careful not to tell them that the pocket watch had gone from the White Rabbit’s to Sorbacov’s watch. All of them would remember that watch vividly. Sorbacov liked to pull it out and look at it while the children we
re being tortured, as if he were slowly marking the time. It was part of his cruel amusement. There were too many memories surrounding that watch, and when it began to intrude into Player’s alternate world, the danger to everyone around increased significantly.
He kept playing to their amusement, yet at the same time wanting Czar to see that Zyah had really taken away his migraine and the crazy illusions that his fucked-up brain tricked him into believing and then projecting when he was that far gone.
“I got to my room, slammed the door and everything changed. She was inside dancing. Music was playing and candles were burning. She was exotic and beautiful. Every movement, every word she said, the sound of her voice, I could feel a difference in my head. I sprinted down that hallway thinking my head was going to shatter, just explode it hurt so damn bad, and then she was talking in this voice and every word felt like she was somehow mending my brain.”
Player frowned. “I’m not saying it right. It was more than that. It wasn’t an illusion. She really did it. She has a gift. We laughed and talked all night. We did a hell of a lot more than that, and I wasn’t telling my body what to do either. But I was exhausted, and there at the end, I couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. I’d somehow convinced myself the brothers had hired her for me. You drilled it into us never to let anyone stay. I kicked her out and, worse, gave her money, which she left on my nightstand. It was brutal when I woke up and began putting pieces together.”
Czar swore and shook his head. “This isn’t adding up. This woman is like some fucking miracle. Looking at the photo Code has of her—she’s gorgeous. She has some fancy job that treats her like a rock star, gives her all kinds of money, and now you’re saying she’s gifted. What the hell is she doing taking a job in a small grocery store in Caspar that doesn’t pay shit?”
“I don’t care what brought her here,” Player said. “She’s here and I want her to stay. I’ll figure out a way to make up for my stupidity.”
“Because we have so much to offer a woman like that,” Keys said.
Reckless Road Page 8
