by Karen Renee
Saturdays were our trade-off days, in part because of Caleb’s crazy schedule and in part because Aubrey wanted it that way. One might think she shouldn’t get a say in how we handled the switch-off, but since it impacted her the most, we did what felt smoothest for her.
“When will you get back?” I asked.
He sighed. “Not certain. If my meetings go well, Wednesday. But bottom line, Kenzie, I need to switch our weeks. Can we do that or what?”
My jaw shifted so I wouldn’t grind my teeth. Caleb’s terse business tone irritated me every time. I recalled the day’s date and realized I didn’t have to work tomorrow morning, so I wouldn’t have to find someone to watch Aubrey.
“Absolutely, Caleb. Any special—”
“Great. Next Saturday then. Tell Aubrey Daddy loves her.”
With the double beep of my phone, I knew he’d hung up. Again, I fought clenching my jaw. He had a way of acting like his time was more valuable than anyone else’s and that had only intensified after our divorce.
It would have been nice to know if he had special plans for the weekend with Aubrey, but now, I’d have to get that info from her. That drove me up the wall, because it wasn’t cool to put a six-year-old in the middle. But then, I supposed that wasn’t exactly putting her in the middle. She would certainly tell me what she’d been looking forward to about her visit with her father.
When I opened the door to the school corridor, Aubrey was wearing her backpack and sitting in a chair along the hall. She jumped up at the sight of me, her dirty blonde ponytail swinging wildly.
Mrs. Ferris, one of the teachers, sat at a desk where parents signed their children out. “We saw you walking up, and Aubrey couldn’t wait to go home, Mom.”
I smiled at my daughter and shared the smile with Mrs. Ferris. “I bet you can’t wait to go home either. It’s Friday, after all.”
Aubrey bustled up, I gave her a hug, and we went to the car.
“How was your day?” I asked, while we both buckled into our seats.
“Good, Mommy. I can’t wait to go to Daddy’s. I have so much Halloween candy left. Who called you? I saw you outside. Was it Daddy?”
I twisted in my seat to look in her gray-blue eyes. “Yeah, honey, it was. I hate to tell you this, but he’s got to go out of town suddenly. He wanted me to tell you he loves you, and he’ll see you next weekend.”
She didn’t frown, but her lips set in a way I felt her disappointment. I hated this about Caleb’s job, how the last-minute travel impacted Aubrey. And whenever I brought it up, you’d think I asked him if he could cut off his arm. But really, he had coworkers who didn’t travel as much or as far as he did.
Caleb firmly believed Aubrey had to learn to adjust with the curveballs life threw at her. While I didn’t disagree with that, I was of a mindset to limit the number of curveballs my girl received and prevent as many as possible.
The sound of a sniff pulled me from my rumination.
I stared at Aubrey. Her lip wasn’t quivering or anything, but I got the feeling she was going to blow.
“It’s the weekend, sweetie. Are we doing pizza or burgers?”
She shrugged, then crossed her arms.
I amped up my smile. “Now, c’mon. I know you’re super-cool now that you’re in first grade, but I figure I got a while before you answer in shrugs.”
“I get to answer in shrugs?” she asked.
“No,” I said, dipping my chin. “But what’s it gonna be? Pizza? It’s time to go home.”
“Whatever you want, Mommy.”
I arched a brow. “You only say that when you’re up to something. What’s going on?”
“I want my Halloween candy.”
With some things I could be a stickler, and Halloween candy happened to be one of those things. Caleb wasn’t. If something could be had for free, he was all about it, and he let her stuff herself sick with candy. Every year.
“I bet Ronnie’s eating it,” she mumbled.
My lips pressed together to contain my scoff. Caleb’s wife, Veronica, wouldn’t touch candy if a million dollars were on the line.
I put the car in gear. “Doubt that, Aubs. It’ll still be there next week. I’ll make you a deal: tell me what you want for dinner and we’ll swing by Target on the way to see if they have any candy on clearance. Or better yet, we’ll pick up cookies. Fresh cookies beat candy every time.”
In the rearview mirror, I saw her pondering that. Since my girl was no dummy, she saw logic and smiled. “Okay, Mommy. And, can we get pizza?”
Chapter Two
Assumptions Aren’t Cool
Brute
Brute left the casino debating how he would spend the evening. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d told a woman he would call her. Something about Kenzie struck him different, and it was more than her put-together banker look. He knew right off she would be more strait-laced in bed, but kissing her held the promise of a touch of wild. Not as wild as he’d been over the years, but watching Har with Stephanie, Brute could see where it was time to grow the hell up.
As these thoughts ran through his mind, Brute noticed a man smoking and hanging around his bike. His Harley wasn’t as flashy as other brothers’ bikes, but he maintained it to the point of nearly doting, so it got its fair share of admiration.
When the man turned toward him, Brute’s body strung tight.
Detective Raul Tovar threw his cigarette on the pavement and stubbed it out. His eyes gleamed with banked malice.
“Brute.” His tone was openly disgusted.
“Detective,” Brute muttered, his tone neutral.
“Know Dennizen’s talked to you and your brothers, but I don’t believe that none of you have seen Wreck. Y’all know where he is, and I’m gonna find out.”
Brute held Tovar’s eyes for a few moments. “Sorry, detective. I haven’t seen Wreck in over a year. He owes me –and my club– money, so believe me, I’d like to find his sorry ass.”
Tovar shook his head with his eyes closed. When he stopped, he leveled his eyes at Brute. “My guess is you bastards killed Wreck... maybe even Layla, too, and they’re both buried on your property or you fed them to the gators.”
Brute fought bristling, but he couldn’t keep his chest from expanding with his anger.
“Those are extreme accusations, Tovar. I’ll ignore you accusing us of turning on our own brother, but no way in fuck would the Riot kill a woman.”
“Even one who sold you out?”
He shook his head. “She didn’t sell us out.”
“According to her sister, she sold you and your brothers out.”
“She helped two brothers. We don’t share club business with women – the fact Wreck did should’ve tipped Layla off. But, wasn’t her who sold us out. It was Wreck and Massive.”
When the detective stepped close to him, he knew the hammer was going to drop.
“Get smart, Vaillant. You’re the only brother in that club who has a business that can’t withstand bad publicity.”
He exhaled at the thinly-veiled threat. “I’m already smart, Tovar. Thinkin’ you need to get smart. Threatening a law-abiding citizen isn’t a good idea these days.”
Tovar shook his head. “No threats, man. Merely pointing out facts. Media would eat it up. General contractor, who’s also a biker, is a person of interest in the disappearance of his brethren, and maybe even a person of interest in a woman’s murder? They say there’s no such thing as bad publicity, but that’s a lie.”
With his parting shot, the detective sauntered across the parking garage and up a ramp to his unmarked car.
“Fuckin’ bastard,” Brute muttered.
He straddled his bike and blew out a breath to get his temper under control. The smart thing to do would be hitting the clubhouse, but as he rode out of the parking garage he steered himself to his dad’s gym. Nothing calmed his moods like a good workout.
THE SLAP OF THE CONDITIONING ropes against the floor finally struck a rhythm he
liked, which was exactly when his dad decided to come chat.
“Don’t let that bee in your bonnet get the better of you, boy.”
“No bee, and I don’t wear a fuckin’ bonnet, Dad.”
The familiar chuckle forced him to whip the heavy-duty ropes even harder.
“Whatever you say, Sammy. How about you tell me what crawled up your ass then?”
“Cops.”
One of the ropes stopped because his dad wrapped his thick hand around it. “You say, ‘cops’?”
When he stopped the rope in his other hand, he grunted, “Yeah.”
“My office, son.”
He followed his dad while swinging his arms horizontally back and forth across his chest to stretch his lats. The stress was building rather than receding with the workout and his dad’s reaction didn’t help.
As soon as the door closed, Dad launched in. “What the hell do the cops want with you? For fuck’s sake, I thought you boys looked out for each other.”
“We do,” he semi-lied. He was looking out for his brothers by letting Tovar fuck with him. Keeping them out of this would protect the club. “This cop’s asking questions about a woman who was killed last year. He’s pushin’ me around because he knows I got a small business and —”
His dad nodded. “He’s putting pressure on the weakest link.”
“He thinks is the weakest link.”
With a dip of his chin, Dad gave him a stern look. “Know you’re not weak, Sam. Hell, no way I’d raise a weakling. This bastard come to the clubhouse?”
“Caught me outside the casino where Stephie works.”
Dad’s head reared back. “That’s odd. How’d he know you were there?”
Brute shook his head. That wasn’t his primary concern. “Not sure. My bike isn’t that flashy, but plenty of people know it’s mine.”
He braced when he saw his father’s hard stare. “You gotta start takin’ care of yourself, and not your brothers, Sam.”
Most of the time, his dad seemed cool with him being part of the Riot. Then he’d catch wind of certain things and his disapproval came through loud and clear. “Dad—”
“It’s been over a year since that murder. Why’s he comin’ round now?”
That also concerned Brute, because the detectives hadn’t played it this way when it was fresh, and they should have. “Bugs me, too, Dad. Especially since last year, they told us they had a line on him using his credit cards in some small towns in Georgia.”
All the brothers knew when Major and Blood –brothers from the Jacksonville chapter– took Wreck’s body, they also took his credit cards. Major had the same build as Wreck. Once he shaved his long gray beard, he’d donned a cap and went to an ATM. Wreck had been stupid enough to write his pin numbers on a scrap of paper in his wallet, so Major withdrew a modest amount of cash from Wreck’s account. After burying the body in Thomasville, they’d detoured to Valdosta, where they met Volt, the president of the Jacksonville chapter. They handed off Wreck’s credit cards. Volt, who was taking his wife and daughter to visit his mother in Tifton, Georgia, made sure to use one of the credit cards at the shop of one of his long-time buddies.
“Somebody’s makin’ waves, is my guess,” Dad said, pulling Brute from his thoughts.
He shrugged as he considered it.
Dad shook his head. “God forbid, but you ever went missing, I’d make waves like a tsunami to get you back and get justice.”
That made sense. They hadn’t heard from Callie, Layla’s sister, in months. She would make waves, and for all they knew Wreck might have family doing the same.
“I’m sure you got nothing to worry about. Not like you killed him.”
Brute’s eyebrow jumped and he wanted to kick himself.
“Shit,” Dad breathed.
“Had a nine millimeter pointed at Har, Dad. And every intention of using it.”
“Shit,” Dad grumbled.
His phone saved him from responding when a text came through. Seeing the message from Kenzie, he smiled bigger than he normally would from a woman’s message.
“What’s got you grinnin’?”
He looked up. “Just a minute, I’ll tell you.”
His thumbs moved over the screen at half the rate Kenzie’s had when she put in her number. He hadn’t even realized she didn’t ask for his name, and that told him she had been more flustered than she let on.
With a smirk he looked at his Dad. “Met a woman while at lunch with Har and Stephie today.”
“You meet plenty of women, Sam, but haven’t seen you grin like that in a long damn time.”
“You’re seein’ things, old man.”
“Nope, but I like what I am seein’ and I hope it goes somewhere. Me and Gina aren’t getting any younger, Sam. You’re my only hope for —”
“I know, Dad. I thought Amber was nagging her husband—”
“Wanting a baby isn’t nagging, you need to get that through your thick skull.”
He sighed. “Whatever. Sounds like she might be hope for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t matter. She’s Gina’s daughter, not mine. I want our bloodline carried on if possible, Sam. And if you have a boy, I won’t care if he’s Samuel the third or you go a different route.”
The office phone ringing saved him from responding. He gave Dad a wave and hit the locker room.
Kenzie
AS MUCH AS MY DAUGHTER loved Cub Scouts, I had a love-hate relationship with it. Yes, it fed her tomboy spirit in a way I never could, but why the meetings had to be on Tuesday nights, I would never know. I stood along the wall in the Sunday school room watching Aubrey sitting with the other Tiger Scouts. She was enthralled with the reinforced paper airplane they were building.
Jared, the father of another Tiger Cub Scout, sidled up to me. “You ever make such an elaborate paper airplane?”
I did a closed-lip smile, but my phone rang and I fought sighing with relief. Jared was a nice enough guy, but the attraction just wasn’t there. “Sorry, I have to take this, it might be her father,” I murmured.
“Hello,” I said as I moved toward the door.
“Wanna get a drink, babe?” a deep voice asked.
Pulling the phone from my cheek, I saw Brute’s name on display.
I grimaced, not that he could see it. “Sorry, I’m busy tonight.”
From the corner of my eye I noticed Jared stood close. “They’re going to need your help,” he said rather loudly.
There was no doubt Brute heard him, but it was confirmed when he said, “Ah, I see. Well—”
I couldn’t help but laugh at him jumping to the wrong conclusion. “I’m at a church function,” I white-lied.
“Right,” he muttered.
Well, if the damage was done, then it wouldn’t be the first time. Dating as a single mom was daunting, to say the least.
Anyone else, I would’ve let him have his hastily-drawn conclusions, but something compelled me to speak. “I’m at Cub Scouts with my daughter.”
He laughed. “Cub Scouts are for boys, lady. The least you could do is get—”
Now I was irritated.
“The Boy Scouts started accepting girls a few years ago. In fact, the Girl Scouts are suing because of it, so the least you could do is take me at my word.”
Jared tapped me on my shoulder, and I looked to see Aubrey fiddling with her plane. I scurried around him, but by the time I stood next to my daughter, she’d figured out what to do.
I heard Brute chuckle. “You got spunk.”
I scoffed quietly and went into the corridor for privacy. “No, I got things going on. I don’t like when people make assumptions. I know it sounded like one thing, but it wasn’t.”
“You’re right. Assumptions aren’t cool. I apologize.”
I smiled. “I’m sorry, too. When I agreed to seeing you this week, I didn’t know my ex-husband was going to switch his week with our daughter. So, maybe Saturday or Sunday?”
He was silent f
or a while.
Figured.
I bit the bullet. “Or maybe not at all. I don’t normally tell men I have a child until a third or fourth date, so I get it if you need to move on—”
“Kenzie. I didn’t say any of that. Wasn’t even thinking any of that. I was debating bringing you two dinner, but I’m guessing—”
Part of me loved that idea, but all of me knew it was entirely too soon to introduce my daughter to him. “We already ate, Brute. Though I appreciate it.”
“Okay, but I was guessing it’s too soon for me to meet a female Cub Scout.”
I felt strangely relieved.
“Right,” I whispered.
He sighed. “Can’t believe I’m gonna ask this, but could I drop by after she goes to bed?”
Oh boy.
I wanted that, but then I reminded myself of the adage, ‘safety first.’
“That’s tempting, but maybe lunch tomorrow, instead?”
“On one condition.”
“A condition? Really?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Wear pants. You’re fine as hell in a dress, baby, but I’m taking you to lunch and I’ll be on my bike. Weather’s supposed to be fantastic, and you ain’t livin’ right if you go everywhere in a cage.”
I nibbled my lip. “Um, won’t I need a helmet?”
He chuckled. “I’ll have you covered.”
My brows furrowed. “You will? You have an extra just—”
“You’ll wear mine, I got an older one I can use.”
“Oh,” I said.
I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Tomorrow. Pants. Lunch.”
His economical way of speaking made me smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Have a good night, Kenzie.”
“You too, Sam.”
“BABE, LOSE THE SHOES. Time to hit the beach.”
We were sitting on the outdoor deck at an extremely popular beachside seafood restaurant overlooking the Gulf. The vision of him walking the beach was so incongruous with all that was Brute I nearly laughed. I’d somehow forgotten how big and burly he was. When he’d shown up at the bank earlier, Lydia had nearly tripped trying to get out of her office to assist him with whatever banking needs he had, but the look on her face when I announced he was there to take me to lunch made me lament not having my phone at the ready. Photographic proof of her being flummoxed would have been worth its weight in gold since she loved nosing into everyone’s business.
