by Dahlia West
“They might.”
“Matt, they’re not going hire a girl with a prostitution conviction. It won’t happen. I’ve got a good job here and-”
“So, they hired you. The plant’ll hire you, too.”
Daisy bit her lip and felt guilty about lying on the application. She’d probably have to lie for the rest of her life. She didn’t relish the thought.
“Forget it, Matt. We’re done.”
“Daisy-”
Daisy hung up on him, hopefully for the last time, and shoved her phone back into her pocket. She turned around and came face to face with Easy, lurking in the shadow of the house.
“Jesus!” she cried. “You scared me.”
It was getting dark outside, but she could still make out his face. She froze.
“You’re a whore,” he said quietly.
Daisy’s heart pounded, and she felt like she was going to be sick. “Jimmy-”
“You’re a fucking whore.”
Daisy shook her head. “It’s not really like that. I-”
“I let you into my life!” he shouted. “Into my house! And you’re a god damn whore!”
Daisy’s eyes flitted to the house. The back door opened and Sarah came through it. Daisy felt on the edge of panic and took a step toward him. “I’m not,” she told him quietly. “Please don’t-”
“Do not fucking touch me!” Easy shouted.
“Jimmy!” Sarah yelled and Shooter followed the sound of their voices out into the backyard.
“She’s a hooker!” he told Sarah loudly, then he turned back to Daisy. “I guess that’s where you’ve been for the last eight months!”
Sarah looked from Easy to Daisy. “Daisy?”
Daisy pressed her lips together as Tex, Abby, and Caleb came out. They weren’t exactly surrounding her, but she felt trapped just the same. She shook her head and refused to answer. The sting of tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, willing them not to fall. Crying would solve nothing, and the last thing she wanted to do was explain.
“She just got out of jail,” Easy informed them. “For prostitution.”
Daisy laughed, sharp and bitter, and glared at him. “You forgot resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer.”
“Maria doesn’t hire felons,” Caleb pointed out.
Daisy shrugged. “She’s also too busy to do background checks.”
“You bitch,” Easy snapped.
“Easy,” Shooter said quietly.
“You bitch!” he yelled louder. “You come here and lie- to all of us. You’re nothing but a skank ass whore!”
“That’s enough,” Caleb said, trying to defuse the situation. He crossed toward her, reaching out his hand. “Daisy-”
She jerked back from him, nearly stumbling. Tears welled up in her eyes and blurred her vision. “Don’t touch me!” she shouted at him. “Not you! Never you!”
She looked around, searching desperately, for what she had no idea. Sarah looked horrified, Shooter pretty much the same. Abby and Tex were quiet. Daisy could see there was nothing for it. Whatever she had thought she’d found here was lost- or possibly had never really existed at all. She could lie and say it was all mistake, but they probably wouldn’t believe her. So she told a bigger lie instead.
“I want to go home,” she whispered.
Chapter 30
Things had settled down in the last week, or at least Sarah, Tildy, and Abby had gone from yelling at him to not really speaking to him at all. Daisy hadn’t answered her phone when they’d tried to reach her, and they blamed it on him. Apparently, she’d cleared out of her room at the Rainbow and hadn’t even told Maria she was leaving town. Easy tried to point out that it was more proof Daisy was unreliable and dishonest, but the girls were having none of it.
Work was the same as it always was, with the guys pretty much leaving him alone. Only Caleb had tried to talk to him about. Easy simply asked if Caleb had ever accidentally fucked a whore. Caleb had nothing to say to that and had since given up, or so Easy thought.
He barely looked up as an RCPD squad car pulled into the lot at the garage. Caleb got out and crunched the gravel with his heavy boots as he walked toward the open bay doors.
“What’s up?” Shooter asked him, since Caleb rarely stopped by the garage, especially when he was on duty.
“Been up to Lead,” he replied, glancing at Easy, but Easy wasn’t about to take the bait. He picked up a socket wrench and walked away, back to the engine he was working on.
Ignoring Easy’s attempt at indifference, Caleb said, “Thought I’d talk to the cop that arrested Daisy. See what his impression was of her.”
Since Easy didn’t respond, Shooter did. “Oh, yeah? What’d he have to say?”
Caleb shook his head. “Didn’t. I couldn’t reach him.” He hooked his thumbs into his utility belt and sighed. “Apparently, he’s doing his own bid right now. Year and half for sex abuse.”
Easy kept his eyes on the engine, but paused.
“Sex abuse?” Shooter asked.
“Seems a concerned citizen saw him in plainclothes heading into a no-tell motel with a young girl and called it in. Turned out she was fourteen, a runaway. He told her if she didn’t play nice, he’d take her right back to her step daddy who was already crawling into her bed at night.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Any asshole can be a cop,” Caleb replied darkly. “Least this one got caught.”
Easy fought back the black spots before his eyes as he gripped the wrench tightly. He stood up and turned on Caleb. “Did he hurt Daisy?” he demanded, gripping the wrench so hard his knuckles turned white.
“I don’t know,” Caleb replied quietly. “She pled guilty to all the charges right out of the gate. Never tried to make a deal. She did her whole bid with no behavioral issues, and they released her.”
“And no one’s looking into his prior arrests?” Hawk asked.
“They are, but they’re doing it quietly. They reached out to some girls, including Daisy while she was in jail, but she wouldn’t talk about it. The DA didn’t pursue it. Mostly, they just want it to go away. I had to go through five people before I could find someone who’d even tell me that much. For what it’s worth, Daisy’s got no other priors. Not even a juvie record that I could find. She’s lived her whole life in Nebraska and never got into trouble until she came up to Sturgis.”
Easy tossed the wrench toward the nearby workbench but missed, and it clattered to the floor. He turned and walked toward the parking lot.
“Easy,” Shooter called after him, but he ignored the man. “Jimmy!”
“I just need... a break,” he said. “I’m going home. I’m done for the day.”
They watched him go without trying to stop him. The last thing he needed was to be around people right now or have to look at their accusing glares. Nothing they could do or say could make him feel worse right now. He nosed the bike into traffic and drove home, but it turned out that being alone had its own pitfalls.
Easy sat at his kitchen table with a bottle of Jack Daniels, a belated Christmas Gift, and one hell of a guilty conscience. The truth was he didn’t need the box or the bottle, so he’d finish off one and toss the other in the garbage.
He was reaching for the bottle when the back door slid open. A shadow fell across the floor. He was reminded of the time Daisy had come into his house, uninvited but not exactly unwanted. He could say a lot of things about Daisy, about himself and how he’d treated her, but he’d always wanted her. It wasn’t that he didn’t want all of her, he just didn’t want to give all of himself.
Hawk pulled out a chair and sat down. “So, you’re going to sit here and get drunk and wonder why you didn’t just ask her for the truth?”
“I didn’t want the truth,” Easy admitted. “The truth is I was looking for a way out. And I found one. She could have told me it was all bullshit. I wouldn’t have believed her, because I didn’t want to believe her. I didn’t want to believ
e in her.”
Easy leaned back in his chair and studied the ceiling. “This... foul mouthed, sassy little girl blows into town and everything’s on her terms, always. She doesn’t give a shit what anyone else thinks. Like she wouldn’t even let anyone take that much from her. If he hurt her... ”
“You don’t know that.”
“I didn’t ask! Too busy feeling sorry for myself.” He reached for the bottle again.
Hawk eyed him as Easy poured himself another drink. “You could stop,” he suggested. Easy wasn’t sure if he meant feeling sorry for himself, or the drinking, or both.
“I am,” Easy assured him.
Hawk frowned. “Doesn’t look like it.”
Easy shook his head. “It’s not a bender.”
“Then what is it?”
“The end of the road. Or the beginning of it. Fuck, I’m not sure.”
“Deep,” Hawk said with a smirk.
“Fuck you. I’m drunk. And this shit’s all going away,” said Easy, gesturing to the table.
Hawk reached out to pluck the silver box from the table. On instinct, Easy reached for it to stop him. Then he blew out a boozy breath. “Fuck it,” he proclaimed. “I don’t need it.” He pushed it away, and Hawk picked it up. He took off the lid and peered inside. Easy felt a flood of warmth coursing through his body. He wasn’t sure if it was the booze, or embarrassment, or what.
“You’re getting rid of this?”
He nodded sharply. “It’s time,” he told Hawk. “I don’t need it anymore. I’m done with that.”
Hawk frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Fuck yeah, I’m sure!”
“Well, it’s not my thing,” Hawk told him. “Or my business. But are you sure you don’t need it?”
Easy gaped at the man. “What the fuck?!” he demanded. “So... you’re writing me off? Just like that?”
Hawk looked just as surprised. “No. Of course not. But I’m not sure you should give up on the idea of-”
“Fuck. You!” Easy shouted and snatched back the box. He slammed it down on the table with a resounding thud. A glimmer of gold caught his eye and he looked down. He stared at it for a moment before reaching inside. His fingers trembled as he tried but failed to grasp the small chain. At last his fingers pinched the clasp and he held up the small gold crucifix. It dangled above the silver box and twinkled in the afternoon sunlight coming in through the window.
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered.
Hawk was silent a moment before he asked, “What was in it?”
Easy blew out a harsh breath and looked at him. “A hollow point,” he said finally.
“Jesus, Jimmy!”
“I’m over it!” he insisted. “Like I said, I don’t need it anymore. I haven’t thought about needing it for a long fucking time. I was gonna put it back in the ammo box with the others.”
Hawk spun the box around on the table. “Fucking Christmas box, too,” he muttered. “Drama queen. But you were getting rid of it?”
“Yeah.”
“What changed your mind?”
Easy looked at him.
Hawk smiled. “It figures.”
“Why does it figure?”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Hawk told him. “We never save the girl. The girl always saves us.”
Chapter 31
Easy was acutely aware of Shooter’s gaze on him as he stepped out of Slick’s SUV. The slightly larger man watched calmly but curiously as his wife followed Easy to the garage.
“It’s your day off,” Shooter said to Easy.
Easy nodded. “Got business.”
Shooter cocked his head. “Tempted to ask what kind of business involves my woman.” He looked at Sarah, who had her lips pressed together. Since Easy had called her the day before, she’d barely been able to contain her excitement. It was a wonder that she hadn’t already told her husband everything already. But Easy wasn’t flat on his back, choking on dust, so he figured she’d managed to keep things to herself.
Shooter tucked a rag into his back pocket and cast Easy a look. “What-?”
Before he could finish, a rumble of engines caught his attention. Down the street, two Harleys and a jacked up truck were coming their way. The riders were sporting club colors. Shooter moved forward and took hold of Sarah, pulling her toward him. Tex appeared on Shooter’s other side, keeping a watchful eye on the caravan.
“Easy,” Shooter growled, and there was an entire interrogation packed into that one word.
“They’re just a club,” Easy assured him. “I checked them out.”
“So, I don’t need to get my gun?” Tex asked.
Easy shrugged. “You could. They might come down on the price.” He left the group and headed across the lot, waving at a large, burly man with a salt and pepper beard and aviator sunglasses. After a cursory meet and greet, the man stepped back and gave Easy some space.
The Softail was a gleaming mass of black and chrome, but Easy ignored the shiny bits and went right to business. He checked the twin cam engine and the caliper brakes. Satisfied with what he saw, Easy stood up and reached for his wallet. “It’s in good shape,” he confirmed as he handed over a cashier’s check.
The beard grinned. “She’s my baby,” he said. “Take care of her.”
“I will.”
The beard jumped into the truck, one Harley lighter and a few thousand dollars richer. Easy gave him a final wave and turned as everyone came up behind him.
“Nice,” Hawk declared, eyeing the bike appreciatively.
Shooter’s mouth quirked up, and he could barely contain his grin. “So, this is why you needed a ride.”
Easy smirked at him as the door to Slick’s SUV banged shut. The sound caused everyone to look. She’d gone to retrieve two bucket helmets from the cab. Shooter raised an eyebrow at her.
“Actually,” said Easy. “I’m taking your wife for a ride.”
Shooter watched Sarah hand Easy the second helmet then put on her own. “Last time you tried that,” he told Easy, “I kicked your ass.”
“No, I kicked your ass, not that you deserved it. I’m going to drop my pants in front of her, too. You’re going to have to work overtime to win back her love once she sees my package.”
“Jimmy!” Sarah cried and slapped his arm.
Shooter’s jaw twitched. “You can show her anything you want. You touch her, and I’ll rip your leg off and beat you with it.”
Easy grinned at him. “Do it with the cheap one.”
Shooter ignored the cryptic comment and turned to Sarah. “How long have you known about this?”
“Um... since yesterday.”
“And yet you didn’t think to mention it.” Sarah didn’t answer. “Fucking Slick,” Shooter muttered.
Sarah slid on the back of Easy’s new ride and put her arms around him.
Easy grinned at Shooter and patted her hands.
“Higher,” Shooter growled.
“Chris,” Sarah groaned but moved up her hands.
“When are you coming back?”
“Not ‘til after dark. Tildy’s at the house with the baby. Bye!”
Easy rolled out of the lot before Shooter could live up to his nickname. He turned onto the street and settled into the leather seat. The shifting was fluid, and his leg felt okay for now. By the time they hit the highway, he was comfortable. He hit the gas and shifted through the gears seamlessly as he and Sarah headed northwest.
In the sterile room, he felt less comfortable than he had on the bike. The cool breeze of the open road had been replaced by the chill of the air conditioning and his one bare foot on the floor. He took a deep breath and reached for the privacy curtain.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Sarah told him from the other side of the room. “I can wait outside.”
“No,” he said, and pulled the curtain back.
Sarah made a small noise, and Easy’s stomach twisted. “That bad?” he asked quietly.
>
She shook her head, face flushing. “It’s not... ” She cleared her throat. “You’re in your underwear.”
He glanced down. “Well, yeah. How’s he going to look at it?”
“I don’t know!”
He smirked at her as he slid into the chair next to hers. “You just can’t keep from looking.”
“Oh, I can,” she countered. She reached down to the floor and grabbed a helmet. She plunked it into his lap.
Easy looked down at it and sighed. “Perfect fit. If only they made condoms in my size.”
Sarah slapped his arm. He laughed again. She was quiet for a moment then reached out and tousled his hair. “You look good.”
“If only you weren’t married. And your old man didn’t have a .45,” he teased.
“I mean it, Jimmy. You look good.”
He was the one who cleared his throat this time. “You don’t think I should grow out my hair? Go for a rocker look like Milo?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always known you like this. I don’t think so. You’re perfect.”
She threaded her fingers through his and rested her head on his shoulder. “Remember when you used to do this for me?”
“Get you naked and compliment you? Somehow I would’ve remembered.”
She squeezed his hand. “You used to hold my hand when I was pregnant. When Chris... ”
Easy rested his head against hers. Shooter hadn’t taken Sarah’s pregnancy complications well. He’d whittled himself down to survival mode, like they’d done in the field. It was understandable, after all; he’d had twice as much to lose. Along the way he’d lost sight of the fact that although his wife was one hell of a fighter, she wasn’t a soldier. She’d needed comfort when Shooter had none to give. Instead he’d immersed himself in blood pressure readings and daily medication.
There had been no formal discussion about it, just a tacit understanding that Tex would watch over the lieutenant while Easy cared for Sarah. It had seemed the obvious choice. Easy had been showing her how to protect herself physically. It only made sense that he’d help her emotionally, too.
The door opened, and a doctor in a white lab coat came in. Easy recognized him from his previous extended stay. He shook the man’s hand. “Is this your girlfriend?” he asked, taking Sarah’s hand as well.
