Chasing Down Changes (Moroad Motorcycle Club)

by Debra Kayn

  Without waiting for him to reply, she continued her way to the building and took the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. Her lack of sleep last night coupled with the morning's drama exhausted her. Glad for the next three nights off from Silver Girls, she could concentrate on Red Light without any added worries.

  Jeremy pulled the door out of her hand. She blocked his path. "You're not coming inside."

  "Shut up, Tiff." He placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her into the building, closing the door behind her. "If you have to work, you can talk to me afterward, or if you can't wait and want to start throwing words at me now, we'll talk inside. What's it going to be?"

  "Neither one. You're turning around and leaving, or I'm calling the sheriff."

  "There's a phone in your back pocket. Use it if you need it." He climbed the stairs, pushing her forward.

  "You can't go up to the rooms." She stopped at the landing and planted her hands on his stomach.

  The hard resistance she met never budged. She removed her hands and rubbed them on her thighs. Rubbing off the feel of him failed to work and instead soaked into her palms.

  "Open the door." He turned her around. "If you want rid of me; you'll have to talk to me first."

  She had no plans to say a word to him. "Fine, I'll let you in, and you can talk. Then I want you out of here before the women start work."

  He grunted in reply. She keyed the lock and let him inside. The only place she felt safe with him was in the main kitchen with a table between them. She wanted to keep him far away from her living quarters and her bed.

  Inside the room, she sat at the table and pointed to the farthest chair. "Sit. Talk. Then leave."

  Surprising her, he sat at the other end and braced his elbows on the table. Away from him, she dug her fingernails into her thighs to keep from banging the table and screaming. He came back different, more demanding and stubborn. Well, she could prove how much she'd matured and had control of her temper.

  Jeremy ran his hand across his jaw. She waited. Alert to his posture, she sat on guard ready for him to attack.

  Chapter Five

  The last time Jeremy had chew between his lip and gum he'd spit the wad in the face of the Idaho State Patrol officer who cuffed his hands behind his back. He pushed his tongue behind his lip and watched Tiff. He never had the desire for chew in prison, and now he sat here across the table from Tiff and would kill a man for one dip.

  He tapped the table with his fist. "You got any cigarettes or a joint in here?"

  "Are you joking?" Her mouth tightened. "I don't do drugs or keep them in the building. I have enough things to worry about around here without adding drugs into the mix."

  "Right," he mumbled.

  Tiff pulled out her phone, checked the screen, and set the cell on the table. Her hands shook. Jeremy studied her closely. Her weakness could mean anything.

  She was nervous about having a felon in the same room.

  She was reluctant to say something wrong.

  She was ready to cry.

  All the unknowns surrounding Tiff angered him. He was supposed to know every detail about her, and he sat here not knowing how to get the answers he needed. Hell, she appeared ready to make a sprint for the door rather than be with him.

  "You taking cock, too?" His legs tensed.

  If she fucking answered yes, he'd walk out. Then he'd kill every man she'd had inside of her over the last fifteen years and smile during his execution.

  "I don't think that's any of your business." Her hands disappeared underneath the table. "I run a bordello. There are rules. Everyone deserves to keep their activities confidential. I run a clean place. The women work for a living. Unlike how Moroad uses their women for their personal entertainment, I treat my employees better. If you came here to lecture me, forget it. I'm not the first woman to run a house of pleasure, and I won't be the last."

  "Are you taking cock, too?" he repeated.

  "Not. Your. Business." She stood. "Now if this is what you wanted to talk to me about, I'm done."

  "Sit down, Tiff."

  She sat and looked away from him.

  "Answer my question," he said.

  She shrugged. "I don't have to."

  Adrenaline kicked in at her stubbornness. He sprawled his hand on the table. Had she snapped her reply?

  "I can sit here all day." He pushed harder, wanting more of her attitude. Her lack of spirit and keeping her distance irritate the fuck out of him. He wouldn't believe she'd changed that much from the girl he remembered.

  Her chin came up. "Did you ask Lola the same rude question when you returned?"

  "Lola has nothing to do—"

  "Oh, that's right. When you dumped me, Lola took a vow of abstinence with Moroad." She rolled her eyes. "Though at her age, maybe she dried up. Is that the case? Did you come back to Federal and find your fuck buddy past her prime?"

  He scooted back his chair.

  Her chair screeched against the floor as she hung onto the edge of the table, ready to flee.

  Fear stared back at him.

  She had a valid reason for being afraid of him. He forced himself to relax and sit back in the chair. Change took time.

  When he'd had everything familiar ripped from his life, he'd adapted. He'd come back stronger.

  "What I had and have with Lola never came between you and me." He leaned forward. "I went to prison, and that meant no contact with you. I wanted you safe and far away from those who would harm you to get to me. I explained that in my letter to you."

  Her brows pinched above her nose. "I never received any letter."

  "I'm not surprised." He ran his hand down his beard, pulling it straight. "Most of the guards were dirty. They'll take money from anyone. I wrote two or three times, and decided I couldn't take the chance anymore, in case they gave information about you to Reds, Blues, Los Li."

  Tiff moistened her lips. He wanted to know what was going on in her head. She wasn't clueless about Moroad members spending time in prison.

  She'd watched Christina handle Cam's eighteen-month sentence while they were together, and understood the rules. The Moroad women were the only ones used by the club to get information into the prison system and to Moroad members. All Tiff had to do was ask Cam to give him a message, and he'd hear what she had to tell him.

  "The first couple of months I was incarcerated, I asked my dad every time he visited if he had a message from you, and he told me no. Are you telling me your messages were kept from me?" He trusted Cam with his life, but his dad came first in all things. Club came second. His family came third, but not last, and they were protected and wanted.

  She shook her head. "I wanted nothing to do with Moroad after you were arrested."

  "I had you set up, Tiff. I handed over money to you every month to go to school and put a roof over your head to get away from your mom." He leaned back in his chair. "Look what you've done with everything I gave you. You own your own business. Hell, you grew Silver Girls into a fucking whorehouse. I asked you a simple question, and I want a yes or no answer. Are men paying you for sex after everything I've done for you? Are men taking what is mine?"

  Tiff scooted her chair back and rushed to stand. "Get out."

  "I'm not going anywhere." He remained sitting.

  "Get. Out," she screamed, picking up her phone. "Get out of my building."

  He ducked. The phone sailed over his shoulder and smashed into the wall behind him. He raised his brows and stood. That temper taking control over common sense was a familiar and welcome sight. He could deal with anger and the woman aiming at him.

  The woman who made his blood boil.

  The woman who turned him on.

  The woman who he owned.

  The woman he wasn't giving up.

  He stalked toward her. She stood her ground. He grasped her upper arms and lifted her to her toes. "I asked you a simple question."

  "I hate you." She struggled in his hold.

&nb
sp; He held on tighter. "You're mine."

  "Lola's yours." She pitched her body forward, hitting him in the chest. "Ask her. Ask her how she acted after you got arrested. Ask your club brothers how they treated her. I walked away because I couldn't stand to see you claim her. Not one of them checked on me. No one had my back. You left me to survive on my own. One day you were my world, and then the next you were dead to me."

  Her body heaved, gasping for breath. He shook her, angered by what she was telling him. Fucking, bullshit. Lola had nothing to do with his relationship with Tiff.

  "Tiff?" a feminine voice spoke behind Jeremy. "Do you want me to hide the others and call the sheriff.

  Confusion and anger colored Tiff's face and her eyes never strayed from Jeremy. He brought her closer. "What's the girl's name?"

  Tiff's brows lowered even more. "Keely," she whispered, raw and broken.

  "Keely?" He placed Tiff on the ground and kept hold of her, keeping his back to the woman in the doorway. "Stay right there and don't move. I need you to do something for me."

  Keely gasped. Tiff slapped Jeremy's chest. He wasn't going anywhere and he sure in the hell wasn't going to let the sheriff haul him back to prison. The answer Tiff refused to give him was his for the taking.

  "Keely?" he said. "Does Tiff fuck the men who come upstairs?

  "God, no," Keely blurted.

  Tiff, hidden behind his body, sagged in his hands. His chest swelled with pleasure. He'd received his answer.

  "Give me a few minutes with Tiff, and then I'll leave. You can check in on her before you're due to start work. You'll find out she's okay." He loosened his hold, not that Tiff was going anywhere.

  Footsteps hurried down the hallway until silence gripped him. He guided Tiff to the nearest chair and sat her down.

  He squatted down in front of Tiff, needing her eyes on him now that he'd learned the truth. "Look at me."

  Tiff lifted her chin. The attitude from earlier was completely missing, and she sat before him an emotional mess.

  He gathered her cold hands in his. "I kept telling myself over the years that you'd be okay. That you'd hang strong as my woman. I get that you're pissed at me, and I'll make you happy. But, I'm not planning on going back to prison, and I expect you by my side."

  Her lips trembled. He reached up and cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her bottom lip. "Fucking proud of you, baby, for holding strong."

  "Just go," she whispered. "Go back to Lola."

  "You're the one who belongs to me. The money I sent you every month proves my feelings for you. You belong to me. " He held her chin. "Understand?"

  "Lola—"

  "Has nothing to do with you and me." He leaned in, kissed her softly. "What time do you close the building down?"

  She shut her eyes, shook her head, and refused to answer him.

  "Keep your snit going if you want, but I'll be back. Don't lock me out and force me to break in." He straightened. "While you're working, think about if you want us to stay here, or you want to stay at the motel with the club."

  He waited for her to acknowledge him and she continued to stare at the floor. She had to realize he wasn't going anywhere. He understood changes. He'd gone through hell and back inside the prison, preparing for his release. But, not once had he doubted what was his when he returned.

  Obviously, she hadn't planned on him coming home. But, she wasn't spreading her legs for cock. Somewhere in the back of her head, she understood her place and that he still owned her. He only had to remind her of her reasons why she held strong.

  He walked out of the room, nodded at the woman he suspected was Keely hiding at the end of the hallway, and exited the second story door, taking the steps down to his Harley. In the alley, he heard a blood-curdling scream and smiled for the first time in years.

  That was his baby, and she'd found her spirit.

  Chapter Six

  The last customer of the night at Red Light walked into Keely's room. Tiff paused shutting the door and watched Keely limberly bend over and start untying the man's shoes. The women working upstairs made sex and communicating with men look easy.

  If only sex were the one thing she and Jeremy had in common, she could fix everything between them, and then send him on his way.

  She closed the door quietly, walked down to the main kitchen, and nodded at Marci, who started the egg timer. "Thanks for agreeing to stay here and keep things running for me."

  As her personal assistant, Marci lived upstairs as a 'big sister' to the Red Light women, kept a record book of customers, assigned sexual preferences, and when petty arguments broke out between the women, she stepped in and settled things down. More importantly, Marci kept Tiff company while she ran the bordello and had become a friend in the last six years.

  "Where are you going to go?" Marci tilted her head and frowned.

  Her decision to leave the Sterling Building for five days and decide what she could do to deter Jeremy from her life came after she'd run through all the options available to her. She couldn't stay.

  Jeremy had too much control over her, and she was weak. She'd fall into bed with him if he ordered her, or he called her baby, or he looked at her with those sexy, lazy eyes again. She'd worked too hard to rise above what she always believed she was capable of to step backward. Besides, Sheriff Colby wouldn't like hearing Moroad was back in her life.

  "It's best that you don't know where I'm going." She checked her phone. "You'll find everything you need in my room. Help yourself to the food in the fridge, too. If any rumors come around about the Feds making a stop, call me."

  "Will you be able to help if a raid happens?" Marci stood from the table.

  "Absolutely, but nothing is going to happen. You know what to say and do if the Federal agents show up." She gathered Marci in a quick hug. "I trust you. You're the only one I know who can deal with the customers and keep the women in line."

  "I have a bad feeling about this," whispered Marci.

  Tiff forced a smile. "Don't worry. Red Light will be fine under your care, and Shari has Silver Girls covered. She's going to man the door, and the dancers are going to perform a routine they did last summer. I doubt if the customers will even recognize the dances."

  "It's you I'm worried about."

  Tiff paused and squeezed Marci's hand. "I'll survive. I've been through worse. Right now, you need to keep the girls calm and not let them question what is going on, especially Hannah. She has a tendency to talk with the men if she gets nervous."

  Marci inhaled deeply. "Okay, I'll take care of things."

  "I'll check in when I can, and I'll only be gone for five days. The dancers won't come in until Thursday and will only have to do one night on their own. You only have to worry about the bordello." Tiff eyed the timer. "I only have ten more minutes to get out of here. I need to go."

  After another quick hug, Tiff picked up her bag she'd packed earlier, walked downstairs, and out the front of the building, locking the door behind her. On the sidewalk, she spotted Sheriff Colby's truck parked under the street light and hurried to the passenger door.

  Inside the vehicle, she blew out the breath trapped in her lungs since Jeremy took responsibility for everything she'd done in her life until this moment. Even more shocking than Jeremy forcing his way back into her life, he actually believed she took his money and bought the Sterling Building.

  She slipped into the passenger seat. "I can't thank you enough for letting me stay with you, Colby."

  Out of uniform, Sheriff Colby reached over and squeezed her hand. His calm demeanor always settled her down and put her at ease. Ever since she was little, knowing he was around, she believed everything would be okay.

  "You got a good head on your shoulders, Tiff. You'll get things straightened out," he said.

  She smiled sadly. Predictable, steady, and a constant in her life, he had no idea how much she wanted to believe him. Jeremy Aldridge was even too complicated and dangerous for Colby to stand up again.
r />   Sheriff Colby returned his hand to the steering wheel, and pulled away from the curb, looking in his rearview mirror. "You knew the day would come when Aldridge walked out of prison. A few days to pamper yourself and gain your confidence back, you'll come out swinging."

  She stared out the window and studied Main Street as the sheriff drove through Federal. Then they left the lights of the town, and she peered out to nothing, letting her mind escape.

  "Why are you so supportive of me?" She turned to gaze at him.

  At sixty years old, Colby still carried himself with pride. The town residents loved him, and he'd stepped into the role of Sheriff fresh out of FBI National Academy. There was more to the man behind the badge.

  Colby laughed, an airy scoff filled with reasons that eluded her. "Stupidity."

  She closed her mouth over the answer. "Well, I, um...okay."

  "Yep." Colby glanced at her. "I loved your mom, but as the years went by, I realized that the only thing I had going for me was my job. When I went home, all I had was stupidity."

  "That's not true." She half turned on the seat. "My mom was difficult."

  "Yes, she was." Sheriff Colby sighed. "But she had a wonderful daughter who made the years I tried to help her worth every second."

  "You never fell in love with anyone else?"

  Colby turned left on the last block of the residential area and took the gravel road toward his house, set high above Federal. "Nope. I've had a good life. I have friends, my job, the community, and you."

  Colby came to a stop in his driveway, and his outside security light came on. She looked at the beige single-story ranch style home with white shutters, the four-foot Cyclone fence, the Border Collie barking at the front gate, and the American flag flapping in the breeze by the main entrance.

  "And here you are...the sheriff of Federal, keeping everyone safe and rescuing crazy women who are more messed up in the head than usual," she whispered.