by Maren Lee
“You don’t sound fine,” Jake offered his opinion.
“Uh-huh.” Wesson nodded and closed his eyes.
“All right… moving on.” Brenden handed out the updated warrant list.
Ryan chuckled and shook his head. Riding with Wesson was going to be little more fun today.
➰
They loaded up in Wesson’s chosen undercover vehicle, a tiny, two-door, burnt orange Pontiac Sunfire. Wesson could’ve picked from any of the seized vehicles the Department had on the premises, and he chose the smallest one.
For fuck’s sake.
The only way they could have been more cramped was if they’d taken the damn golf cart that had been seized last summer after some home-from-college kids were busted smoking marijuana on the golf course.
“Why can’t we take one of the trucks or vans?” Ryan asked.
“Vans are a dead giveaway when you’re undercover, man. Come on, you know this. And the trucks are too hard to park anywhere close to anything. Ever.”
“You think that the forest green Dodge Caravan is a dead giveaway, too?” Ryan couldn’t believe he had to cram his body into this tiny thing.
“Unless we’re a couple of gay bears with a couple of cubs, then yes, it’s too obvious.”
“Gay bears?”
“You know, big hairy gay guys. Bears. If we had kids, they’d be our cubs.” Wesson gave Ryan a look that said “why the fuck don’t you know this?”
“You are so fuckin’ weird.” Ryan buckled up.
“I know you are, but so am I,” Wesson sang like fucking Pee-wee Herman.
“It’s, ‘I know you are, but what am I?,’ moron.”
“That’s what I said.”
Good lord, today is going to be exhausting.
“Okay, I feel like I’m letting you take me down a dumbass rabbit hole, Wess. Shut up. Now, what are we doing today?”
“We’re meeting with the latest confidential informant on the Ruiz case. Says he can get us an in with Sergei.”
“Who the fuck is Sergei?”
“Ruiz’s Russian tie to the drug ring.”
“Bratva.”
“Yeah, Bratva. Weren’t you paying attention at our last meeting?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t realize you already had us an in with a C.I.”
“Flipped the motherfucker a few months ago. He’s proved fairly valuable so far, but nothing big yet.”
“You really think the Cartel and Bratva are working together?”
“I dunno, but there’s only one way to find out. He’s getting us a meet with Sergei.”
“What do you mean us? How do we plan on doing that? When we’re dressed like this?” He gestured to their tan and brown uniforms.
“Undercover, duh. And yeah ‘us.’ I told him I had a runner I liked to use. That’s you.”
“Wess, neither of us look like drug dealers.”
“We’re gonna change into some civvies, gramps. I’ve got some old JNCOs for you in my closet.”
“What the hell is a JNCO?”
“I forget old farts don’t know these things. They’re big baggy pants.”
“Wess, this isn’t 1996. Nobody wears those anymore. Jeans and a t-shirt okay?”
“Fine. But none of your Thin Blue Line gear!”
Jesus. Like he was dumb enough to do that. He may as well write ‘COP’ on his forehead.
“The next time you ask me to work with you, remind me of this day, all right?” Ryan sighed.
“Chill out, AARP. It’ll be fine. We’ll hit my place and then yours and we’ll be on our way. Hey, we can even talk about your ex-fuck-buddy-turned-lesbian lover while we’re at it.”
“I do not want to talk about that.”
“Why? Feeling defeated? I’m sorry, man. You just can’t compete with the pussy, no matter how big your dick is.”
“Wess, only you can say shit like that.” Ryan laughed.
“I know. It’s why I do it.” Wesson smirked as he started the car and threw it in gear.
They headed to Wesson and Molly’s place first. Ryan hoped that damn cat of Wesson’s would be napping when he got there so that it didn’t glare at him.
Who are you kidding? That little creep is probably sharpening his claws waiting for you.
Chapter 8
Katie rolled over in the guest bed at Jake and Lane’s and checked her phone.
5 missed calls.
4 text messages.
Fuck.
Brian.
BC: Where are you?
BC: Call me.
BC: Kate, where the fuck are you?
BC: Kate, why aren’t you at home in my fucking bed?
The last one was from five minutes ago.
Are you fucking kidding me? I told you where I was going to be, jackass!
Katie dialed Brian’s number.
Brian picked up nearly immediately.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Kate? I was about to call the police and file a missing person’s report. Where the fuck are you?”
“Brian, settle down,” Katie ordered.
“Don’t tell me to settle down. I didn’t know where you were. Kidnapped. Dead. Fucking another man. Every possibility entered my mind!”
“Maybe the possibility I actually told you about should have entered your mind first, Brian!” she shouted. “I’m at my brother’s house in Imminence. I told you I was coming here for a get-together my sister-in-law was hosting! Jesus. You never listen to me!”
“You didn’t tell me that, Kate. Swear to god I would remember that because I would have told you no fucking way are you driving to fucking Imminence for a party.”
“First of all, I did tell you!” she shouted into the phone. “Second, I don’t have to ask your permission to do things!” Yeah, you put your foot down, Katie. “Third, it wasn’t a real party. It was one of those multi-level-marketing parties. You know, like Scentsy.” Katie cringed at her half-truth. It’s kind of like Scentsy.
“Get home.”
“Well, now I’m not so sure I want to come home, if you’re going to be such an asshole about it.” Ughhhhh! Jackass. Katie was frustrated.
“Grow the fuck up, Kate.”
Oh hell no.
“My name is Katie! Not Kate!” she shouted. Again. Too. Early. For. Shouting.
It was too late. He’d hung up.
Fuck.
Katie felt sick to her stomach. She hated the fact that Brian called her Kate, but he insisted that it made her seem more professional at the hospital. More trustworthy as a caregiver. She didn’t usually let it bother her, but right now, it was making her furious. And if Brian really wanted to hit Katie where it hurt, he would make a comment about her immaturity. He wasn’t even that much older than her. Thirty to her twenty-four. It was a much more socially acceptable age gap than Ryan’s forty-two.
But even though Ryan had age hang-ups, he’d never insulted Katie because of it. His problem was more with his own age than it was with hers. He’d never told her to grow up.
Fuck. You need to stop thinking about Ryan.
The guilt began to set in again, like a morning fog low in the mountains. Maybe I didn’t actually tell him where I was going? Or maybe I just told him at a bad time when I didn’t have his full attention? I should have sent him a follow up text message so he wouldn’t forget.
Katie didn’t want to blame herself, but maybe there was a real explanation here. She needed to go home and talk to him.
Dammit. She picked her phone back up off the nightstand.
KH: On my way home.
BC: Good.
No ‘drive safely.’ No ‘thanks.’ No ‘sorry I’m such an asshole.’ Just ‘good.’
Great.
➰
Katie felt horrible the entire drive home to Billings. She knew that Brian was out of line for yelling at her, but somehow she always seemed to turn it around on herself and m
ake it her fault.
If you would have stayed home last night, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
She told her guilty conscience to shut it. She’d wanted to see her mom and instead of having to drive the usual six hours to do it, she’d only had to drive seventy miles. Why should she feel guilty about that?
A feeling of dread rolled over her as she pulled into the driveway. Was he going to be angry? Had he had enough time to get over it?
Only one way to find out.
Katie opened the door quietly. Was he even awake? She didn’t want to wake him by slamming front door. That might set him off again. She tiptoed to the bedroom and quietly turned the handle, peeking her head in. He was sleeping.
She pushed through the door and set her overnight bag down by the end of the bed.
Katie walked to Brian’s side of the bed. She knelt down beside him. “Hey, I’m home,” she quietly offered, placing her hand on his shoulder.
Brian opened his eyes slowly. “Kitten. I’m glad you made it back safely. I was so worried about you. I flipped out. I’m sorry.”
Definitely not what she was expecting. See? He can be sweet. This is why you love him, remember?
“I’m sorry, too. I should have checked in with you again last night.”
Brian lifted up his side of the covers gesturing for her to crawl into bed with him. “Snuggle me?” he asked in the sweetest voice that made Katie want to forgive him even more. Still, she hesitated.
God, I hope he doesn’t want sex.
She hated the fact that her body was rejecting his affection that way. But Brian had been so grumpy and controlling lately that she just wasn’t in the mood.
Even when Ryan was a grumpy asshole you always wanted him.
Again, the guilt for thinking about Ryan consumed her.
Katie climbed into bed. She curled up next to her fiancé, her back to his chest. Brian squeezed her tightly once and rolled over to go back to sleep.
Katie breathed a sigh of relief and allowed herself to close her eyes for a while while her mind still raced.
She continued to replay Brian’s voice shouting, “Grow the fuck up, Kate!”
Normally she could shake it off and not give a second thought to his negativity, but today she couldn’t. She knew what – or rather, who – was making her overthink the situation. But no. She wasn’t going to even think his name again.
Her phone buzzed next to her on the nightstand. She picked it up and looked at the message on the screen.
RB: Hope you made it home safely. Call me if you ever want to talk.
Her stomach fluttered. Her heart ached.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This cannot be happening right now.
Katie swiped left, deleted the message, and set her phone down. It didn’t warrant a response. Why did he have to make things complicated? She was fine with how things were.
Fine? Just fine? Yes. Her life would be just fine.
Not good? Or great? Just… fine.
Fuck! Why does it have to be better than that?
Fucking romance movies and made up happily ever afters that didn’t exist. It was all bullshit.
Keep telling yourself that.
Fuck you, inner self!
Fuck.
You.
Katie rolled over and put her pillow on top of her head. She needed to get a couple more hours of sleep and then focus on making things right with Ryan.
No, Brian! God dammit!
As if it wasn’t complicated enough, now she was officially mixing their names up in her head. She knew she was bound to slip up. Hopefully it didn’t happen in front of Brian.
Chapter 9
“You cannot meet with Sergei dressed like that. I told him you were in motorcycle club,” said Alec, the confidential informant Ryan had just met. Alec spoke slowly, his accent heavy. He gestured to their jeans and t-shirts and shook his head.
Ryan had a bad feeling about this. He looked to Wesson. Wesson gave the confidential informant a strange look. Between Wesson’s language skills and Alec’s non-native English comprehension, this was bound to be a total clusterfuck.
“Why the fuck would you tell him we were in an MC, Alec? We’re drug dealers, not gun runners, not bikers.”
“I thought all men in Montana were bikers, no?” he asked.
“No. They’re not. That’s a weird thing to think, man. I mean, we can play the part. It just makes this more complicated. It’s just gonna take a bit longer to round up the gear. We’ll need bikes, leathers, a few days scruff.”
“Pretty sure none of that is in the budget, Wess,” Ryan bit out.
“Fuck. I mean, beards won’t cost much. But yeah, you’re right. Thanks for fuckin’ nothing, Alec. Forget about the meeting today. We’ll have to figure this out another day. Stay on call. And let me remind you: you fuck with me, you’re fucked,” Wesson threatened, pointing his finger at the man’s chest.
Alec nodded, eagerly. “I understand. I have a cousin in motorcycle club who may be able to help you. He’ll be in Billings next week.”
“Great. Invite me over for borscht and we’ll talk dirty.”
“I will text you.”
Ryan and Wesson left the abandoned warehouse on the edge of town and crawled back into the ugly Pontiac Sunfire.
“Well, that was a waste of fuckin’ time.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Wesson replied.
“It wasn’t?”
“Nope. Alec is fuckin’ dirty. Thought I’d flipped him. Guess I was wrong. Done with that fucker.”
“You got all that, from that?”
“Yep. Fucker knew the plan. He went rover making up that MC shit.”
“You didn’t want to tip your hat that you know, though, right?”
“Nope. I’ll burn that bridge when we get there.” Wesson grinned.
“You’re not going for borscht, are you?”
“Oh, I’ll go, but with Billings S.W.A.T. Maybe the F.B.I. Shit is getting hot.”
Ryan was impressed with his friend. Wesson may have a bit of a reputation for being a dumb meathead, but he seemed to be killing it in his new role as a detective for Bounty County.
“Let me know what I can do.”
“Let’s get back to Imminence and out of this shitty fuckin’ car first and then go have dinner with my woman. You’re invited if you don’t have plans.”
Ryan didn’t usually have plans.
“I’m game.”
➰
“Katie is not a lesbian,” Molly stated emphatically in the middle of the diner. They’d met her for dinner after getting their own rigs from the station.
“You dirty fuckin’ liar,” Wesson accused, glaring at Ryan.
“That’s what she told me.” Ryan shrugged. He knew he was caught in a lie, but he didn’t want to give it up quite yet.
“No, she didn’t. I went and talked to her after I saw her rush through the crowd last night. I know why she was upset. Since I’m the only person in her life who knows what went down with you two, she told me everything.”
Fuck.
“You told Molly, you shithead?” Ryan asked Wesson.
“Bro, I can’t keep secrets! It was killing me. I had to drop a load on Molly.”
Dammit! Fuck!
“Wess, baby, it’s unload, not drop a load.” Molly patted his cheek. “As for you,” —she turned her attention to Ryan— “you need to leave her alone. You’re confusing her,” Molly demanded, concern for her friend in her eyes.
“You don’t know everything, Molly,” Ryan gritted out through his teeth. Molly didn’t know. She couldn’t know. Because no one knew. Not even Katie. Hell, Ryan hadn’t even known until he’d felt the acute pain in his chest at the thought of losing Katie forever.
You’re in love with her.
“I know enough, Ryan. You don’t want the same things she wants. Brian is good for her.”
No. He fucking isn’t. No on
e is good enough for Katie. My Katie.
“You have no fucking clue what I want, Molly. Nobody does,” Ryan replied.
