She'd decided a drink or two might ease her nerves and ended up finishing off nearly a half a bottle of tequila, which she'd sworn off drinking years ago. Now she remembered why. Her entire body hurt, her hair hurt and there was a mysterious bruise starting on her arm.
A loud banging at the front door drew her attention, eyes half open and dressed in her robe, Vera took the stairs as fast as she could. Whoever was dumb enough to bang on her door like that was going to get a big piece of her mind.
Through the glass door she saw Deacon Hawke on the other side. When he spotted her he began to bang harder. “Jesus Christ!” Vera turned off the alarm and yanked the door open. “I see you and more than that, I heard you.”
“What kind of business are you running if you're never open?” He stepped forward so that Vera had no choice but to let him in.
“My business,” she replied with a growl, “and I don't need or want to hear your opinion on it, not now and not ever. Got it? Now, I'm assuming that you're here about the necklace.”
“You have it?”
“Not exactly,” Vera turned her eyes away from him because she didn't want to stare. Actually she did want to stare; his hair was out and wild. He wore a black tee shirt under his cut and dark blue jeans. Deacon wore all three things very well, not to mention that whatever cologne he was wearing smelled good enough to make her want to move forward and bite him. It was pathetic how clearly she could imagine biting him, imagine climbing him like a tree, and how badly she wanted to do it made heat rise to her cheeks.
“What does that mean?” He was definitely annoyed, right on the border of out and out pissed, if she wasn't mistaken.
“It means I searched high and low, couldn't find one emerald that I could see Adelaide in. There were some nice ones. She would have told you it was beautiful and then never worn it.” Vera replied as she braced herself for his reaction.
“So I paid you a thousand dollars for nothing?”
“I didn't say that. I found something I think she'll like. It's just not an emerald. Let me show it to you.”
“I asked you for an emerald,” he stepped forward, eyes dark. “What part of that didn't you understand?” He took another step, and all Vera could do was take one back. He was way in her personal space.
Vera's back hit the wall. Fear rose up inside her. “I understood all parts of it.” Vera tried to edge to the side and get out from between him and the wall, but Deacon took a step forward. She sucked in a deep breath. “Most of all I understood that you wanted her to have something she'd love. She'll love what I found if you'll just take...”
Deacon made a sound that was more a growl than anything else. “I don't give a fuck what you found. I want my money back, right now. Every penny including what I overpaid for that piece of shit chair.”
“Piece of shit?” Vera refused to show how intimidated she was by him. “You agreed to that price, in case you've forgotten. I'll happily refund your money for the gift but not for the chair. No fucking way.”
“All of it. Just because we fucked doesn't mean that you get to mouth off to me.”
“Just because we fucked doesn't mean that you can be an asshole to me.” Vera wished that she hadn't spoken when his eyes darkened dangerously. “If you'd stop being stubborn you could see that the gift I found will thrill her.”
“Look, I want what I asked for.”
“And let me guess, you always get what you want?” Vera replied, unable to not roll her eyes. Deacon Hawke was a cocky asshole—a hot one, but still cocky, with a definite sense of entitlement.
“That's the way that it works, Sweetheart,” he moved his face closer to hers. Close enough that Vera was aware he could probably smell the tequila still coming out of her pores. “I want my money. I'm done fucking around.”
“Fine, you want to not fuck around? I'll give you your money back and you give me back everything that I've paid for protection, because I'm not feeling very protected between you being a fucking bully and the creeper hanging outside my house last night.”
“There was someone outside last night?”
Vera brought her hands up in the space between them. “It scared me. You're scaring me right now.” Gently she put her hands to his chest to create more distance between them. “Please.”
Deacon stepped back, held his hands up. “Did you call for someone to come check it out? Someone should have been in the area.”
“No,” Vera admitted, because that thought hadn't occurred to her until after she'd broken out the tequila. When she had considered calling, it wasn't the number that she had for emergencies, it was the personal number that Deke had given her. In the end the only reason she hadn't dialed was the missing person flier sitting on her counter.
“You should have called,” he told her. “Next time make sure you do.”
“Honestly, I don't think that I will.” Vera told him. “Now, if you'd like to see the necklace I'll be happy to show it to you. If you like it, it's considerably less than the thousand you paid me so I'll refund the difference. If not, I'll give you the money back minus the cost of the chair.” She made it through what she had to say without her voice cracking or shaking. Her hands were another story; they trembled so hard she had them tucked in her pockets.
“Why won't you call?” Deacon spoke in his regular tone now, no more anger or annoyance.
“For the reasons I just told you. The protection of The Vikings doesn't make me feel safe when their leader is in my face trying to intimidate me. Now, do you want to see the necklace or not? If not, I've got things to do.”
“Sure, show me.” He took a step back and followed her over to the counter. Vera adjusted the belt on her robe, smoothed the material down as she walked and hoped she hadn't managed to flash him way too much thigh or her ass.
“What's this?” He lifted one of the fliers from the counter.
Vera's mouth went dry. So he wanted to play it like he didn't know anything. She could play it like that too. “Grant Caldwell is missing. I found it under my door when I came home last night.” Vera busied herself getting the box of things that she'd purchased from Rose the night before so that she wouldn't have to look at him. Why hadn't she hidden that damn thing?
“I hadn't heard. Anyone know what happened?”
Vera placed the box on the counter. “No, I don't know any of the details. Like I said, I just saw it when I came in last night.” She opened the lid, withdrew the pendant and laid it down on the counter. “I've got a chain to match it. I know that Adelaide likes the chain because she's admired it a few times when she's been in.”
“It's perfect,” he admitted. For a moment he just looked down at the pendant. Finally he cleared his throat. “I came in here like a real asshole, didn't I?”
“It's not nice of me to call customers assholes to their face,” Vera replied, which was answer enough. “I'll throw in the chain at no charge and I'll get you the rest of the money I owe you.” She jumped as he reached out to wrap his long fingers around her wrist.
“Easy,” he told her. “I'm not going to hurt you. I had a really fucked up night last night. Came in here pissed, and it wasn't at you.”
“But I was an easy target?” Vera shook her head. “No hard feelings, but don't do it again. Just because we fucked doesn't mean I'm your verbal punching bag. It doesn't mean anything. In fact, it was probably a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
“We both have to live in this town and you and your guys are a big part of this town and I never wanted the reputation of being some girl who hangs around and... sleeps with you guys.” When nervous Vera's words could come out in a rush and sometimes make no sense; she knew that as well as she knew that she should stop talking, but it was like there was no stopping her mouth. “And I don't want you thinking I'm like that because I like the guys, they've all been great to me but I don't want to sleep with any of them. I should have just stuck to my rule of only sleeping with out of town guys but I... well I don't know what cam
e over me.”
Deacon didn't bother to hide his smile. “Well, I'm pretty sure that you're safe from people thinking you're one of the girls who hang around us. I'm pretty sure that you've never even been to one of our parties.”
“I haven't,” Vera managed a small smile, “I guess my name got left off the invite list somehow.”
“You want to come to a party?”
“I'm not fishing for an invitation, You're the one that brought up the invitation thing to begin with.” Panic flared inside of her. Was she coming off as that desperate to be included in The Vikings infamous parties? Did she just have a general air of desperation about her? Was that what he thought?
“Never said that you were fishing for an invite,” he replied. He turned towards the door. “You expecting someone?”
Before Vera could answer, the door opened, the bell chimed and police chief Will Brothers stepped through the door. He removed his hat, nodded to the two of them. “Morning, hope I'm not catching you at a bad time.”
Vera looked down at her robe, wanted to pull it tighter around her, but Deacon had her hand. Shit, she could only imagine what Will was thinking. “Of course not, Will. What's up?” She tried to keep her voice casual but was pretty sure it came out sounding high pitched and fake, as if there was something being interrupted.
“I see that someone dropped you off a flier about Grant. His family is pretty worried, so we're canvassing the area to see if anyone saw or heard anything on Tuesday night, when he was last seen.”
“I haven't seen Will in a while,” Vera lied smoothly, or at least she hoped it was smoothly, “I did see his sister last week. She was looking for a new lamp.”
“She mentioned it,” Will made a face that suggested it had been mentioned in detail, but that was Delores Caldwell; she liked to talk. “What about you, Deacon? He was heading over to The Bar, you're there a few nights a week.”
“Last I saw him was Friday night. He was playing darts.” Deacon replied.
“Is that right?” Will recorded the information in a small notebook he produced from his pocket. “So you're saying you haven't seen him since Friday night?”
“That's what I said, Chief.”
“And where were you Tuesday night?”
“I was here, Will,” Vera knew that the question wasn't directed at her but answered it anyway.
“Wasn't talking to you, Vera. Now Deacon, where were you and your guys Tuesday night?” Will was using what Vera liked to think of as his official voice.
“At the warehouse. Watched some ridiculous action movie with lots of explosions and bare tits.” Deacon replied.
“And people can verify that? People not wearing Vikings patches on their backs, of course.”
“Hey,” Vera interjected, pissed now that Will was singling Deacon out. “Isn't the most likely case here that Grant just took off? Last time I did see him he was outside of Rose's, essentially panhandling.”
“Got a few more questions for you, Deacon,” Will stood his full height and tried to look as official as possible. His chest even puffed out some. “You can come with me now, or we can do this the hard way.”
“I really don't have time for this shit, Will, told ya I haven't seen Grant since last Friday, and we both know Vera's right. He's probably on a fucking bender somewhere and will show back up when he's dead broke.”
“Be that as it may, I got more questions.”
“Fine,” Deacon shook his head. “Let's get this over with,” he told the man before looking back to Vera. “We'll finish this later, wrap that up for me. I'll be back.”
“Sure,” she replied as she looked between the two men. “Should I call a lawyer or something?”
“No Vera, I don't need a lawyer.” Deacon smiled. “I'll be back in a couple hours. Get some rest.”
In a move that surprised her, he leaned in and took her mouth. At first Vera resisted the kiss but how could she hold out long? His mouth was warm, surprisingly gentle and the taste of him seemed to ease the pounding in her head.
Vera returned the kiss, moaned against his mouth as his hand stroked her hip through the silk of the robe. The moment was ruined as Will cleared his throat loudly. She'd forgotten all about him standing there.
“That's enough of that. Let's go Hawke. Right now.”
Deacon pulled away from her, winked before they walked out the door together. Vera watched them go, not quite sure if there was something she was supposed to say or do. Yeah, this was definitely turning into a very interesting morning.
Chapter EIGHT
Deacon wasn't a stranger to the Center City Police Station. He sat relaxed in the conference room that Chief Will had commandeered. “Now, let's go over Tuesday night again.”
“Told you, hung out with my boys at the warehouse. Watched some shitty action movie, not sure what the name was. Had a few beers and then headed home, well below the legal limit to ride, and went to sleep. My sister heard me come home.”
“I'll check that with her. I need a list of everyone who was at the warehouse, Deacon.” The chief slid a notebook across the table. “And I need to know what problem you had with Grant Caldwell.”
“I got no problem in particular with Grant. He's a drunk and has never met a drug he doesn't like, and I don't like people who go around fucked up all the time.”
“Thing is, Grant was really insistent to Delores that if anything ever happened to him it would be because of The Vikings. Why would he be so scared of your little gang, Deacon?”
“We're not a gang, we're just a group of guys who like bikes and were looking for a brotherhood. Come on, Chief Will, do gangbangers organize Bingo night at the senior center and supply the door prizes? Your grandmother won big last time.” Unlike her grandson, Estelle Brothers was a real pleasure to be around.
“Don't talk about my grandmother and don't call me Chief Will again.” Will slammed his fist down on the desk. He was barking up the wrong tree if he thought that was going to work on Deacon.
There was a certain satisfaction to pissing Will off, always had been. He'd never liked him, always thought he was too full of himself and that just multiplied when he went away to the academy and came back to Center City. Nothing like good old-fashioned nepotism. Will's father, the former chief, had been much more inclined to look the other way when it came to The Vikings.
“Everyone was there on Tuesday night, Chief, just come on down and ask them. Now, unless you're going to read me my rights I've got work to do.”
“I'm watching you, Hawke, you and The Vikings.” The chief rose to his feet, pulled himself up to his full height. “This town doesn't need you.”
“Alright then, as always it was great talking to you. Can't wait to do it again.” Deacon rose to his feet; he towered over the other man by at least four inches. “You take it easy now.”
“Stay away from Vera. She's too damn good for you, Hawke, and you know it.”
“I don't know any such thing, Will.” Deacon realized that some of the anger in the man's eyes back at New to You hadn't been about whatever Will thought that Deacon had done to Graham, it was about what Will thought Deacon was doing to Vera. “She's a grown woman, knows her own mind. Way I see it she can keep time with whoever she chooses.”
“Stay away from Vera,” Will repeated the words as if that were going to make an ounce of difference. Deacon didn't justify the declaration with a response; instead he just left.
<#<#>#>#>#
Deacon walked into the warehouse and looked around. Things were quiet, too quiet for a Friday afternoon. “Anyone here?” He knew that at least Master and Double were somewhere in the building, since their bikes were parked outside.
He found Master, Double and Fire in the room where they held their meetings. It was a room not normally used for day-to-day conversations. “What's going on, guys?”
“Not a damn thing,” Master replied. “Those crazy bitches still out there?”
“What crazy bitches?” Deacon questioned. When
it came to Master, you could never assume you knew what women he was talking about. He went through them like paper towel.
“The stripper and her homely sister. Remember the ones from last week? She does the spinning pole trick?”
“Sure, yeah.” Deacon agreed, even though he didn't know what Master was talking about. “Since when do you find a place to lay low when women come looking for you?”
“Just keeping out of sight until after the stripper dances here tonight,” Master grinned. “I want another round with her but not the sister. Someone is going to have to handle her for me tonight.”
“Not me,” Deacon shook his head. “I'm heading out to The Old Man's place for Adelaide's thing,” he still couldn't bring himself to say ‘wedding.’ “Keep an eye on everything for me, will you?”
“Sure thing Boss, looks like it's going to be a nice quiet night,” Master leaned back in the chair, a grin on his face. “I've got this.”
“Appreciate it,” Deacon nodded his head. “Alright Brothers, I'll catch you tomorrow.”
He left the meeting room, headed to the office he kept there and immediately walked over to the safe. Time was running short; he still needed to get to New to You and pick up his present.
The idea of seeing Vera brightened his mood, brightened it enough that it was noticeable to him. Fuck. What was he even thinking about her for? If he was smart, he'd pick up the gift, get the rest of his money and stay out of her way best he could from here on out. Whatever he was feeling, he didn't want or need it.
After getting what he needed from the safe, Deacon locked it once more and left the warehouse. The door to the meeting room was still closed. Houdini and Whiskey were eating Chinese food in the main room with the television turned to the cooking channel.
“I'm heading out. Master's in charge.” Deacon adjusted his leather jacket, feeling a little out of sorts because he'd left his guns in the safe. With Chief Will all heated up over him, Deacon knew that he'd have to be careful. Besides, if it came down to needing a gun at The Old Man's place tonight, then he was already dead.
The Only Witness: The Center City Series: Book One Page 7
