“He’s right.” Tyler puts his hand on dad’s shoulder. “You did give up the pres patch.”
“Jesus Christ.” He turns to Tyler. “Why did I bring you again?”
“Because I make sense and I’m the muscle.”
“And because he keeps everyone from killing each other,” Charity says from behind my back. Rushing forward she gives Dad a hug before she gives one to Tyler too. “Thank you both for being here.”
“Nowhere else we’d be.” Dad grabs her for another hug.
“You wanna show us what spooked you so bad, babe?”
She nods, leading us down the hallway into the common area of the law office. It looks just like her and Mandy had started their day with no problem, but at some point, something happened.
“You haven’t looked yet?” Tyler asks as we gather behind her desk so we can all see.
“No, I wanted to wait until the rest of you got here.”
Charity turns around to look at us. “And I had to get myself together. I was a mess when Drew got here.”
“Understandable.” Dad reaches in to rub her shoulder. There’s nothing behind it, other than him wanting to comfort her, but I’m feeling raw right now.
I hip check him as she opens her email program.
“Fuck, Drew, he’s gotta worry about a broken hip now,” Tyler laughs as Dad stumbles.
“Oh screw you, I ain’t that damn old.”
“Can we concentrate on why you’re actually here?” Charity’s dry tone cuts through the three of us.
The bad thing about our family is when we’re nervous we bitch, we argue, we make sarcastic comments to one another that could be construed as not taking things seriously. It’s the way we’ve been since we were little. You don’t go to bed angry and not figure out how to deal with it in a way that doesn’t make you want to kill yourself. I’ve been cultivating my sarcasm from a very early age.
She pulls up an email – the subject reads Confidential. “I didn’t think anything about this,” she explains. “I get confidential emails all the time, from the courts, from potential clients, from clients I already have. It didn’t trigger anything for me.” She opens the email. “But then I read the preview of this one, and I knew I had to call you.” She reaches back, grabbing my hand in hers.
There, plain as day, are words I’ve been dreading. Ones that prove my suspicions are correct.
There’s a leak in Heaven Hill. I have proof, but I can’t come forward, the leak can make it appear like I made it up. Please proceed with caution as you look into this.
The Whistler
“Well fuck,” Tyler groans as the four of us look around at one another. “What are we supposed to do about this?”
“Do what I do when I’m trying to defend a client,” Charity answers. “We have to look objectively and do our own investigation.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea; let’s all meet tonight. I’ll have Dalton and Mandy come too. We’ve got to figure out who this person is that sold us out, before someone else gets hurt.”
Everybody agrees, and I instruct Charity to pack it up for the day. As we leave, I tell her I’ll follow her on my bike, but it kills me not to ride right beside her. As we make our way to our home, I can’t help but feel like we all have bullseyes on our backs, and somebody is about to take a shot.
Chapter Eight
Charity
After the morning I had, my nerves are completely shot, yet here I stand in the Heaven Hill clubhouse` helping my mother-in-law prepare dinner.
“Are you okay?” Denise asks as she gets a good look at me. “Liam told me what happened.”
For the first time in my life I don’t feel comfortable talking in the clubhouse. This is the place I’d come as a teenager when my home life got to be too much. When I found out I was pregnant, this is where I came to tell Drew, and again after the ultrasound, we came straight here. This place is my comfortable, and now it’s ruined because someone here isn’t the family I always thought they were.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not okay, and the shittiest thing about it is I don’t feel like we can talk openly about it, obviously. This has always been the place I’ve come to, Denise.”
I’m holding back threatening tears. When I became so emotional, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s what’s happening to us right now.
“I know, this is where I raised my kids.” She looks around at the packed clubhouse as we get the salad ready to go. Years ago, the women got sick of not being a part of the main crowd, so the guys cut into this wall making a bar. Unless something has to be cooked or watched on the stove, this is where we hang out.
“Me too,” I whisper. Very plainly I can remember bringing the girls home from the hospital. The first place we went wasn’t our house. No, it was here.
“You ready for this?” Drew asks as he sits behind the wheel of the SUV we’d purchased in anticipation of the twins. It’s still odd to see him drive something with doors and a roof, but as I got closer to my due date and my stomach wouldn’t allow me to drive, this has been a regular occurrence in our lives.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I release a breath as I prepare myself to hop down. Sore doesn’t even describe how I’m feeling today. We’ve been in the hospital for the past seven days, because of them inducing me, and then it leading to a c-section. It really doesn’t help my self-esteem or my mood to look down at my stomach and realize I still look pregnant.
“I’ll come over.” He grabs my hand in his for a quick moment, our eyes meeting. “We’re gonna be fine, babe.”
“Are you sure?” I ask the question I’ve been dying to ask since they were born. Yes, we knew we were having twins, but the reality of that situation hadn’t hit us until both of them had been in our hospital room, crying at the same time.
“I’m sure.” He lifts his hand up, putting it against my cheek. “Together we’ll be fine, and we’ll have help.” He looks back at the clubhouse. “Our family will come through.”
And they had. Anything we’d needed, whether it be a nap, or someone to watch them while I took a shower and Drew was at work. When they were sick, we’d had more help than we’d be able to do anything with. Our family had been there for us, which is why it’s killing me to know that one of the members of that family has turned on us. Turning so I don’t have to face whoever it is, I do my best to compose myself.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Christine pouring herself a glass of wine. That’s number three if I’m not mistaken. “Hitting the bottle hard?” I tease, giving her a smile.
The smile she gives me back doesn’t reach her eyes. “It was a rough day at the salon, and I think I need a vacation,” she sighs.
“I’m right there with ya. I think we all need a vacation.”
A flash of pain crosses her face as she looks at whoever walks into the kitchen. Turning to see who’s behind me, my head tilts as I see Steele. Are there issues between the two? He goes over to her, kissing her on the cheek, but she doesn’t melt into him like most of the women here do with their men.
“Another glass?” he asks her. The words are so low I almost don’t hear them, but I do, and I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I don’t appreciate how he’s talking to her.
She smiles at him, but the smile is one of those that’s placating, just on the other side of smart-ass, and meant to piss off the significant other in your life. “Long day.” She tips the glass back, taking it all in one gulp.
When he speaks to her in a lower tone, I turn from the two of them, not wanting to watch as they have an obviously private conversation. However, I make a note in the back of my mind to see if I can get her to talk to me later about whatever is going on with them.
Grabbing the now finished salad bowl, I walk it out to the main room, putting it on the table. Glancing around, I see Harley sitting on Drew’s knee as he talks to Dalton and Jagger. She’s totally engrossed with whatever it is he’s saying, and it b
rings a nostalgic smile to my face.
“This one is fussy.” Denise takes Harley in her arms, bouncing her up and down as she tries to put the bottle in her mouth.
At six months old, we’ve been experimenting with cereal and baby food, but we’re still supplementing with formula, especially since my milk has now completely dried up. Justice rests in my arms, sucking away, happy as can be. Looking at my other daughter, I know exactly what the issue is, but I don’t want to hurt Denise’s feelings. Before I can say anything though, the clubhouse door opens and in walks the sexiest man I know.
I’m not sure what he’s been doing, all I know is the guys are doing some sort of work outside. But he’s wearing these old jeans that are almost white. They have holes in the knees, and there’s one starting to show through on his thigh. Clay dirt stains the lower part, near his boots. The shirt he wears is just as old, holes everywhere and soft as it lovingly caresses his body so tightly I can see the outline of his abdomen muscles. He’s wearing a bandana over the lower portion of his face, more than likely to keep out the dust they’re kicking up. I’ve seen it billowing out the back window as they work on their “project”. On his head, there’s a once-white hat turned around backward, and fuck me if he’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Why’re you making so much noise?” He talks in the voice reserved for his girls.
Immediately Harley begins looking for him. Her blue eyes dart back and forth, trying to figure out where the sound is coming from. He walks over to the sink, taking the bandana off his face, washing his hands all the way up to his elbows. When he’s done, he dries off before walking to within distance of Harley’s vision.
She starts kicking her legs, reaching for him, letting her grandma know she wants him more than she wants her. With a laugh, Denise hands Harley over, handing the bottle to her son. “Good luck with her.”
“Nah.” Drew leans down, kissing her on the forehead before pulling back and making a face. “We got this down pat, don’t we, Harley?”
She latches onto the bottle, grabbing it with both hands, sucking furiously, hungry just like I knew she was. She’s just not happy if her daddy isn’t the one feeding her.
“Spoiled rotten.” I grin over at the two of them.
“She’s my girl.” Drew reaches down, grabbing her foot as she kicks them toward his body. “Just like Justice is yours.”
Some people might take that the wrong way, but we understand completely. These two girls have our personalities and they have favorites. I have my favorite too though, and he’s standing right next to me, holding his daughter in his arms, not afraid to do the work. I don’t know how I ever got so damn lucky.
“You wanna grab the platter of vegetables, or should I?”
Denise’s question brings me out of the memory. I can see Tyler and Liam coming through the back door, carrying a platter loaded down with burgers. “I can do it.”
Escaping to the kitchen, I make sure to put some cheese on the platter, along with tomatoes, lettuce, onions, and pickles. Just as I’m about to take it into the main area, I catch a glimpse of Christine coming out of the bathroom, wiping her eyes and mouth.
When she catches me watching, she offers me a smile, but I can’t shake the feeling she’s crying for help. And no one is seeing it.
Chapter Nine
Charity
“You going to get your hair done tonight?” I ask Mandy as I catch what time it is. Thirty more minutes and we’re out the door.
“At Christine’s? Yes! You know I live for these nights she does especially for us.” She points to her ponytail. “Plus I’ve been living with these roots for long enough.”
“They’re not bad.”
“They’re gray! Pregnancy did a number on my body. I still hate you because not only did you not get many stretchmarks with twins, but you didn’t get gray hair.”
“Yeah but I had horrible heartburn. Remember, I couldn’t sleep and I hated Drew for half the pregnancy because I had such heartburn?”
Mandy giggles. “He slept over at the house more often than he slept at your apartment because you would get so mad at him.”
“It was an irrational anger that I couldn’t let go.” I defend myself. “And those girls came out with a headful of hair, so it is what it is, I guess.” I glance at the clock again, seeing only five minutes have passed. “Fuck it, we’re closing early. I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Hell yes, girl!”
Within minutes the two of us are arm and arm, walking up the street to where Christine’s salon is. When we get to the crosswalk, a car honks at us.
“Hey, pretty ladies!”
We look at one another, each of us ready to give the person yelling at us a piece of our minds when we see it’s a regular at the shop. “Hey, Smokey!” We both wave at him.
“What are you two doing walking without your men?”
I give him a grin, wrinkling the side of my nose up. “Enjoying our freedom for a few minutes. We’re going to get our hair done.” I point to the salon.
“I’m sure it’ll look gorgeous. Tell Ms. Christine I said hi.”
He’s always got a few words to say to Christine. “Will do, Smokes, see ya later!”
He motions for us to cross in front of him, stopping traffic while we do, like a good gentleman. When we enter the salon, we yell our hello at Christine.
“I’m in the back, mixing color,” she yells back at us.
We each sit down in chairs. “We need these in our office,” Mandy says as she pumps up her seat and then lets it down again.
I snort. “We’d never get a damn thing done.”
The door to the salon opens and in walks Tatum, Addie, and B. “Ladies!” They squeal at us. “What’s happening?” Addie asks as she claims the last seat. “I was the last one last time, and y’all assholes left me.” She gives all of us a glare.
“Oh get over it,” Tatum grumbles.
“What’s wrong with you?” B asks as she has a seat on the couch in the waiting area, which isn’t too far away, especially with all of us taking up room.
“She tried on her dress the other day and it’s too small.” Christine spills the beans as she comes out of the back, holding color and bowls in her hands.
“I thought you promised you wouldn’t tell anybody.” Tatum folds her arms over her chest.
“We’re all friends here,” she argues.
“That we are,” I agree. “How small is it?” I ask my sister-in-law.
“Barely, like it barely won’t clasp,” she groans. “It has to be the chocolate I’ve been eating. But chocolate is so much easier than stressing.”
The group of us agree, and start other conversations that I can barely keep track of. However, when Christine comes to stand next to me, to work on Mandy’s hair, I get a glimpse of her hand.
“Christine, where’s your wedding ring?”
She looks down at her finger, then over at me. “After all these years, it got too small.” She shrugs.
Something about the way she says the words don’t sit well with me, and I wonder just what in the world she’s hiding.
Drew
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Remy asks as he and Dalton flank me. “I mean wouldn’t it be smarter to tell everyone?”
I’ve received some intel that we may be able to find out who ordered the hit on the club at a motel off of Scottsville Road. It’s a relic in this town, locally owned and operated, home to some of the seediest characters we have. “I don’t know who to trust, Remy.”
Admitting that is one of the worst admissions I’ve ever made, and it pisses me off. I always want to be able to trust my guys, but the fact is I can’t.
“How did you get this intel?” he asks.
“Another fucking letter delivered to me.”
Again, it had no postmark, but that’s not something I’m sharing freely. The group of us get on our bikes, taking the backroads to the interstate, and then to Scottsville Road. I
t’s a hot day, but it’s a good day for a bike ride. When we get into the parking lot, I glance around at the doors for the number of the room I was told to look at.
“Room three-twenty-six.” I point to a room on the end, upstairs on the second floor.
Our boots make loud noises as we climb the stairs. Getting to the room, I see the door open. Pulling my gun, I make hand gestures to the other two. I tap the door, which swings open and inside a laptop is set up on the dresser. On the laptop, the words dead end flash.
A roar I’ve never heard escapes my throat. I will find who this is, and I will make sure their life is never the same again.
Chapter Ten
Drew
Storm clouds are rolling in across the Kentucky sky. They’re dark, ominous, and they’ve caused us to go ahead and close up shop for the day. Not many cars are even on the road. It’s like everyone knows the storm heading our way is going to be a big one. Nobody is ready to leave since it’s a given we’ll get rained on. No, the group of us are standing in one of the garage bays, watching the swiftly moving sky above us. Across the street, behind and beside Cash’s Customs, is a field, corn growing high, the stalks blowing in the wind, this way and that.
“Feels electric out here.” Dalton folds his arms across his chest. “Already gettin’ cooler too. It’s been too hot lately, whatever happens is gonna be big.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I texted Charity about an hour ago and told her to either stay at the office or come home, but decide which one it was going to be, and stay. She texted me that all the girls have convened on her office.”
“Even Harper?” Remy asks, as he walks up to us.
Right now I’m suspicious of everyone, and the way he asks, sets warning bells off in my head. It’s against my better judgement, but I still snap at him. “Yeah, even Harper. You got a problem with that?”
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