Finders Keepers (The Nighthawks MC Book 3)

by Bella Knight

  “Frenzy, I’ll give Runner back in a minute. Let me talk to your brother.”

  “Lily, me and Frenzy here are on our way to Baton Rouge to continue the vacation. The search has been called off; we put it out that the SWAT found him and is questioning the boy.”

  “Good!” said Ivy. “Is Dimitri really dirty?”

  “Crooked as a snake, but he had a reason. His sister has cancer. We think he did it for the money.”

  “We would have given it to him,” said Ivy, her voice cold.

  Pavel came out of the bathroom, “Dimitri did this to me?” Ivy nodded.

  Pavel hit the wall and broke out into Russian curses.

  “Meet you later,” said Ivy, and closed the phone. She grabbed Pavel to her and held him as she cried out loud.

  She got them both cleaned up, then she snuck him out. They stopped at a dollar store on the way out and bought black shorts and a bright-blue top and a cap for Pavel that hid his eyes. His huge black iris fading to a deep, darker blue on the outside. She got them to the apartment house where she’d left the bike.

  Ghost and Alicia stood guard over the bike, “See you found ‘em,” said Ghost.

  “Couldn’t have done it without you,” said Ivy. “Runner here did well.”

  Ghost got a text that said, “Henry got Harriet out of the slammer, talked to the DA. They had her on piddly shit, some fight with another ho. Got the charges dropped on them both. We gotta get her back to Baby Fats.”

  “Okay. We’re heading to Baton Rouge. You can vacay here, or there.”

  “We stick with you, girl,” said Ghost. “Gotta take Killa here to get the female.”

  Ivy hugged both Ghost and Killa.

  “Killa?” she said. “Something I should know?”

  Alicia smiled, “I a killa now. Be seein’ you.”

  She watched them drive off, then she took out the second helmet she kept for Bella. She put it on Pavel’s head, and grabbed the 10 to Baton Rouge.

  Ghost and Alicia went to pick up Harriet, street name Rhetta. She was tiny; Asian girl tiny, with caramel skin marred by a scraped cheek and a black eye. She had thin wrists and boobs peeking out of a tiny lime green top. She wore crimson short shorts and low black boots. Alicia convinced Harriet to ride on the back of Ghost’s bike, and Alicia rode with Henry. They parked two blocks away from Baby Fats’y6y6 place.

  Harriet hung her head, “He be mad at me fo’ fightin’ wi’ Kernel Pop. She always poppin’ off her mouth. She called me a nigga ho. I tol’ her to get some mother fuckin’ class. She took a swing at me, and I done took her down, right there on Bourbon Street. Damn fool I be.”

  “We take care of that,” said Ghost. “No prob!”

  Henry stayed with the bikes as Alicia put on her Killa face. They found Tamara as wide awake as always.

  “Rhetta,” she said.

  “Tamara,” said Rhetta (Harriet).

  They went in. Baby Fats was still there, smoking a b-lunt.

  “You got somethin’ to say fo’ yoself, girl?” he said.

  “Some of our people was on the street, and we heard what that Pop girl said. She said you were a fat fuck, and she threw the first punch at Harriet here.”

  Baby Fats face closed, “She say that, Harriet?”

  Harriet walked closer, looked him in the eye. “I got so mad, I almost clocked her, but you said, ‘to let her roll off your back.’ Then she punched me, and I lost my temper.”

  Baby Fats looked into her face, “You gotta pay back any fine?” he asked.

  “Charges are dropped, just like you said,” said Ghost.

  Baby Fats waved the girl off, “Go shower and put some ice on, and have Cinnamon look you over,” said Baby Fats. “I come up, I hold you some. You did right, punchin’ that bitch ho.”

  “Thank you, baby,” said Harriet. Cinnamon came out and took her away.

  “You done good, ladies,” said Baby Fats. “You want some blow? I got some primo heah.”

  Ghost vaguely remembered something Ace had said about talking to Leticia, Baby Fats’ Las Vegas counterpart.

  “Thank you, but we have our own.”

  “Gotta girl,” said Baby Fats. “She smart, she cool… but things too hot for her heah. You take her wit you, I see it as a favah.”

  “We ‘cept the favah’ Baby Fats,” said Ghost.

  “Good,” said Baby Fats. He snapped his fingers.

  A young Asian female limped out. She looked to be about fifteen, but Ghost guessed her age to be closer to eighteen. She had been systematically beaten from head to toe. She had two black eyes, a split lip, and a bruised side. Ghost could see through her filmy white top, and there were bruises on her legs below her black shorts. She wore flat gold sandals. She limped toward Ghost and Alicia.

  Ghost moved to help her.

  Alicia put a hand on her gun, “Who did that to her?” This time, she didn’t have to channel anyone. The rage was real. Her hand went to her gun.

  “Oh, shit,” said Tamara, from behind them. “Killa gonna kill somebody now.”

  “Wasn’t me,” said Baby Fats, “guy named Richelieu did it, in the Quarter. My girls tuned him up so bad, he be drinkin’ out of a straw.”

  Killa took her hand off her gun, “Where can I find him?”

  “Hospital in the Quarter. Saint somethin.’”

  “We find him, it okay he die?” asked Ghost.

  “He gonna die anyways, I heah,” said Baby Fats. “Done cut his liver or some shit.”

  Ghost nodded. “Good.” She nodded at Baby Fats, “Nice doin’ bidness w’ yew.”

  Baby Fats inclined his head, “Richeleu done has brothas. You get Baby here out of town, and I make sure he dies.”

  “Word,” said Ghost. Killa moved to Baby’s other side.

  Tamara saw them out, “Gonna need a bomb to take out all he brothas,” said Tamara.

  “They goin’ down,” said Killa. “Take some time, but they goin.’”

  “Gon’ tell the sistas to stay ‘way from them,” said Tamara.

  “You do that,” said Killa.

  It took forever to get around the corner. Henry saw them and sprinted down the street.

  “Fuck,” he said, picking up Baby. “This girl’s a twig. Hospital?”

  “Nothing with ‘saint’ in the name in the Quarter,” said Ghost. “Guy who worked her over, name’s Richeleu, and he’s hurt bad, maybe will die. His brothers are gonna try to kill Baby here.”

  “Fuck that shit,” said Killa. “They all going down.”

  “What did you do to Alicia?” Henry asked Ghost.

  “Her name’s Killa now,” said Ghost.

  “I can see that,” said Henry.

  They took Baby back when Henry got on the bike, then helped her sit. She was so small that Killa got on behind and sandwiched her in. Ghost followed them to an urgent care just outside the Quarter. The nurses took one look at Baby and took her back for X-rays.

  “I’ll stay here,” said Henry. “Whatever you do, don’t get caught.” Ghost and Killa nodded at him and left the urgent care.

  They found the hospital easily enough; it was huge and had a cross shining into the night. They bought some flowers and wandered the floors looking for a large group of brothers. They found them in a waiting just outside the ICU. An angry, milling-mass of large men with shocks of black hair, and red-rimmed blue eyes bursting with rage. They sported hammy fists, and there was also a woman sitting on a chair with their eyes, and with gray in her heavy, black hair. Her lined face half-cowering as she counted beads on her rosary.

  Ghost and Killa went in, past the milling men, each clutching flowers. They sat in the back, pulling their seats next to each other. They put intensely worried looks on their faces and sat.

  “What’s with the spades?” asked one of the brothers.

  “John,” said the older woman, her voice weary. “They’ll hear you.”

  “Who cares?” said John. “Probably some gangbangers anyway.”

 
; Ghost kept a hand on Killa’s arm. Girl wanted to earn her name in a big way.

  “Yeah,” said another one. “Probably just bitches seeing their man.”

  Now Killa had to restrain Ghost. They bent their heads, looking cowed. Another brother came in, with coffee. They all took cups, ignoring the woman counting her rosary sitting among them.

  “Brought beignets too,” he said.

  “Thanks, Mike,” said John, stuffing his mouth.

  “What’s with the spades?” asked Mike.

  The woman with grey streaks in her black hair sighed again, “Mike, they might hear you,” she said.

  “So what?” he said. “Had me a darky last night. They like it rough.” The men laughed, and the woman turned crimson.

  Ghost and Killa sat still, while Mike, John and Jonah sat. They drank coffee they augmented from flasks, and argued over sports and women they called hos. They completely ignored the woman counting on her rosary.

  Ghost took her turn going to the bathroom; she left her flowers with Killa. Mike, the fat one, followed her out. She found a smaller bathroom that she was reasonably sure was empty. As expected, he followed her in. She cringed, pretending to open her mouth in shock. She waited until he lunged, grabbing for her breast. Expecting it, she took out her gun, rose to her tiptoes, and hit him in the temple with the butt end of the gun. He collapsed. She wrestled him in the stall, and hit him again in the same place, then put the gun back.

  She covered her hands with toilet paper, locked the stall, and climbed under it to another stall. Next, she locked it with her improvised gloves; used the bathroom, flushed, and unlocked it with her still-covered left hand. Then she threw away the toilet paper, waited for the automatic flush, and left the stall. She washed her hands, wiped down the handle with soap and a paper towel, and used another paper towel soaked in sanitizer from the helpful dispenser to wipe. She did it with both the inside and the outside handle of the bathroom door. She threw away the paper towel in a trash can farther down the hall.

  She came back just in time to see a doctor come in the waiting room, face grim. The woman folded in on herself and burst into tears. The brothers ignored her, loudly exclaiming and glaring at the doctor.

  Killa and Ghost went over to the woman and sat next to her. “Someone die?” Ghost said.

  “My son,” said the woman. “Bernard Richeleu. They said he saw some pros… prostitute. They said he hit her, and her people retaliated.” She blew her nose noisily. “I knew he had aff -affairs. With women. But a prostitute?” She cried harder.

  Ghost patted her hand. “Our brotha gonna live. Think you need these more than him.” She gave the woman her flowers. Killa did too.

  “Thank… thank you,” said the woman, through her tears.

  “Hey!” said John. “You bitch. Get the hell away from her.”

  “John,” said the woman, sitting up straight. “Keep a civil tongue in your head.” John stared at the woman as if she’d grown a second head.

  Ghost patted her hand. “Bye now.” They left, and passed Jonah still trying to argue away his brother’s death.

  Just outside the door, Ghost stopped so she could be seen by the same window in the waiting room.

  “What the fuck you doing?” asked Killa.

  “Keepin’ things real,” said Ghost. “One of these idiots is gonna follow us.”

  “Or both of them,” said Killa rolling her eyes.

  They fast-walked out the door and around the side of the building, past a limp garden with some flowers and a lot of gravel. They continued on and through where people were smoking in an enclosure, and around the corner into an alley.

  “Spot any cameras?” asked Ghost.

  “Not even one,” said Killa.

  The men jogged around the corner. “Hey!” said Jonah. “You one of them bitches killed my brother?”

  “Your brother tried to beat a woman half her size to death,” said Killa, reaching for the gun hidden in her back holster.

  “Who the fuck cares?” said John. “Ho bitches deserve to die. Anyone that hurts my brother, dies.”

  Killa shrugged. “Had nothin’ to do wit it. Wish I did, but no. Wasn’t me.”

  “How about her?” asked Jonah, rushing closer. “You hurt my brother, bitch?”

  “Which one?” asked Ghost.

  They looked at each other. “Thought Mike went home,” said Jonah. “He answer your texts?”

  “No,” said John. “Thought he was taking a shit.”

  “You bitch!” said Jonah. He pulled out a switchblade; John picked up a rock.

  “Come here, bitches,” taunted John. “Time to die.”

  A shot came from behind them and to the right. Both Ghost and Killa dropped into a crouch position. Another shot came from behind them on the opposite corner of the alley. Each shot hit one man in the chest.

  “You ladies alright?” asked a guy in a motorcycle jacket.

  Ghost stood slowly when she recognized the Iron Knights’ logo. He was tall and lanky and bony. The other guy was huge, like a walking boulder. His jacket looked like a tent.

  “Fine,” said Ghost.

  “Good,” said Killa.

  “You ladies go on now,” said the skinny one. “We’ll clean up here.”

  “Yeah,” said Ghost. She grabbed Killa’s hand and dragged her out of the alley. They ran to Ghost’s bike and were gone.

  Ghost headed to the urgent care center, with Killa behind her. Her timing was great. Killa helped with getting a woozy, bruised, and bandaged Baby on the bike behind Henry, and then Killa got on.

  “Hotel?” asked Ghost.

  “Already packed,” said Henry. “I checked us out.”

  “Never unpacked,” said Ghost. “We never checked in; we were riding around when we got the text about Pavel.”

  “Let’s meet Ivy, then,” said Henry. They rode out and took the 10 to Baton Rouge.

  It had really been a horrible ordeal. A damn mess that none of them wanted.

  “Life sucks sometimes.”

  2

  Baton Rouge

  Arrival

  “With friends, anything is possible.”

  Baton Rouge looked beautiful in the early morning against the water. It didn’t take long to find the hotel; it was a smaller one on the waterfront. It had three stories and a black roof. They had five hotel rooms. Ghost and Killa took one, Baby and Ivy had another, and Henry and Pavel roomed together. Then Bella took one, and Grace and Callie had another. They had breakfast on two of the balconies, passing around platters of bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs with cheese, dollar pancakes, and strawberries. The food going back and forth over the balcony divider.

  Pavel was joyous at being free but exhausted. “We’ve got to do a Wal-Mart run. Some of us need more clothes.”

  Ivy snorted, “I’m not gonna need anything, but I’m happy to use Bella’s rental car to take you all. Who’s going?”

  Bella said, “Callie here is still sore, but she needs stuff, and needs school stuff.”

  “Baby need stuff, too,” said Ghost.

  Ivy looked at Baby. “Is that what you want to be called?” asked Ivy. “You can have any name you want.”

  Baby looked up, “I don’ have no other name.” Her cheek was turning a ghastly yellow, and her right eye was sealed shut.

  Baby was on pain medication and was sitting in a recliner to eat. Ghost and Killa kept an eye on her, tracking when she needed more medication. She was sat rotating frozen, blue plastic packets around her body; her knee, inside her left thigh, her nose, her face, and her stomach. Bella did the same for Callie’s face and arm. Both women were embarrassed by the attention.

  “You think about it, and tell us.” Ivy speared a strawberry and ate it.

  “Alright!” said Baby.

  “I have excellent new name,” said Pavel. “I am Runner. I run away from kidnapper. I hit him first, too. I stay alive. I know Ivy or Henry or someone will find me.”

  “Are you kidding?” sa
id Ivy. “We were tearing up the city looking for you.”

  “This city is very pretty,” he said. “Can I have gun?”

  Henry spat out his coffee. “What? Why?”

  “You were scared and sad to lose me,” said Pavel. “I have gun, I shoot bad guy, no problem.”

  Ivy patted his knee and said, “Stick with me, boyo. We need to wait till you get back to Vegas to teach you all of it, though.”

  “Hokay,” said Pavel.

  “You defended yourself well,” said Henry. “Who taught you?”

  “Keiran.”

  Ivy smiled. “Keiran has a new name, too. Frenzy. Because he defended you and Dimitri.”

  “Excellent name,” said Pavel, stealing more bacon with a sly grin.

  Henry stood. “I’m going to order more bacon, strawberries, and dollar pancakes.” He rubbed Pavel’s hair and said, “I forgot how much growing boys eat.”

  Pavel blushed red.

  “Anyone else want anything?” said Henry.

  “Another carafe of orange juice, too,” said Ivy. “I think you forgot how growing boys eat.” Henry laughed and went in to make the call.

  Callie said, “Bella said I can come back with you to Las Vegas.”

  “Sure,” said Ivy. “Might as well use that rental car for something.” Bella smiled widely.

  “Can I go to school?” asked Grace.

  “Of course,” said Ivy. “Henry there teaches at our private homeschool, or you can go to regular school. We have several kids your age in the homeschool.”

  “Why are you homeschooling?” asked Callie.

  “Lots of people work grave and swing shifts,” said Henry, who came back out and poured himself more coffee. “This way, the parents can see their kids. They keep the same sleep schedule as their parents. We have several certified teachers who cover each shift.”

  “Great idea,” said Callie. “I’m in, depending on what job I get.” She waved her casted arm a tiny bit and winced. “I have to get my broken wing here healed, though.”

  “Me too,” said Baby, slowly eating a strawberry yogurt. “I will be out some. No one likes a girl who looks like I do now.”