Finn pulled back as if she’d slapped him. “What? What are you talking about?”
The rage and frustration bubbled over, weeks’ worth of fear bursting out. “How long before he calls you and tells you the Watleys are on their way back and to leave Whispering Willows?” She pointed at Finn’s laptop, sitting on the coffee table. “When do you cut your losses and leave?”
Finn frowned. “Where’s this coming from?” He got off the stool and moved around to stand in front of her. “I’m not going to leave you. Not until the job is done.”
She heard the tension in his voice, the double life beginning to pull at his soul. Every night he went to the bar as Finn Trotter, drinking and smoking to try and get into Jake’s good graces. And every morning he came back to be Finn Storm, the man who climbed into bed with her, who played cards and read mystery stories.
“At some point, you will leave.” She put up a hand, holding him at bay. “At some point, that phone will ring, and Dylan will tell you to come home, and you’ll have to go.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “But not until the gang’s gone.” He locked eyes with her. “I promise. I’m not going anywhere until Smith is behind bars. So, I’ll ask again—what’s going on? This isn’t just about you getting tired of hanging out at the Rest ‘n’ Relax.”
Skye drew a staggered breath. “Robby isn’t getting any better. And my entire life is on hold until this”—she drew a circle with her hand—”is all over. All of this.”
Finn used a finger to imitate the circle. “What do you think ‘this’ is?”
“I… I don’t know.” She put her hands over her eyes. “I’m tired and angry and wondering when you’re going to leave, and if I want you to leave, and what I’m going to tell Robby when he wakes up and…”
His arms went around her, pulling her close. “I’m not going anywhere, Skye.”
“Yes. You will,” she whispered into his shirt. “Because everyone leaves.” Her grip intensified, nails digging into the fabric. “Everyone leaves.”
…
Skye’s words shocked Finn, an invisible dagger digging deep into his gut. She shuddered against him, not crying but unable to keep the emotions in.
Everyone leaves.
He imagined a younger Skye, dealing with the loss of her parents and having to jump into adulthood, raising her younger brother while trying to fend for herself. Passing up parties, giving up relationships because no one wanted to deal with her emotional baggage. The lost nights worrying about how to make the rent, and the sacrifice of her own future for her brother.
A future Robby might never see now.
Everyone leaves.
Her parents. Robby. And now him, if something went wrong.
Even if things went right, he’d leave at the end, going back to Vegas and his life there.
Inside, he berated himself for not seeing what was digging into her mind.
“I’m not going anywhere. Well, other than to the bar later tonight,” he added.
The answering snort gave him a bit of relief.
“Skye.” He slid a hand under her chin and tugged her face up to look at him directly. “I can’t promise something won’t happen to me. I can’t. But I can tell you I’ll try my hardest to get back to you, no matter what.”
She sighed and nodded. “I don’t know if I could deal with that again, that horrible loss.” She pressed her hand to his chest, over his heart. “I can’t lose anyone else. You or Robby.”
“I’ll try my best,” Finn said. “I can’t promise you anything else.”
“Then I guess that’ll have to do.” Skye moved out of his grasp, leaving his arms empty. “I’m going to the hospital to see Robby.” She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.
Finn didn’t say a word as he watched her get her purse and phone, watched her walk out of the apartment.
There was nothing more that he could say.
…
Five days more passed, five more days of visiting the hospital and running the truck stop. Of Finn going out to the Broken Spoke and coming home tired and grumpy. From what he said, the bikers were warming up to him, as much as they could to someone who wasn’t a member or even a prospect, but it was a slow process.
He didn’t say anything about leaving.
She saw the signs, though. Wyatt and Ace were still on guard, but more tense, as if they were coiled springs about to go off. They acted more like bodyguards than private help, and she’d caught more than one nurse giving them a side-eye when they switched out during her visits.
Another asshole had taken the watch in the waiting room. She’d made him instantly, his grizzled face and stubborn glare standing out from the other visitors.
Wyatt had nodded when she’d informed him. “We got it.” He smiled as he headed out of the room. “Don’t you worry about him.”
This morning she settled next to Robby and picked up reading The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes where Finn had left off on his last visit, the thick paperback book now almost half finished. The bruising was gone from Robby’s face and he looked like he was in a deep, restful sleep. But he wasn’t. And in an hour or so, she’d be back at the truck stop and the cycle would start all over again.
It was midnight when she turned the key in the store’s front door and flipped the Open sign over to Closed with a flourish, eager to get home before Finn left for the bar. They’d become a classic blue-collar-shift couple, passing each other in the evening and again in the morning as they left for their different destinations. She loved the occasional quickie when he climbed into bed, smelling of fresh soap and with wet hair she loved to play with, the speed and intensity part of the thrill.
There were also quiet times, where they’d lie in bed together and talk to each other about anything and everything, holding hands as one or the other drifted off to sleep.
She’d discovered he loved to hike, using a cabin somewhere near Vegas for a home base.
He’d found her collection of antique tea cups, inherited from her mother.
They enjoyed each other’s company in silence, something that rarely happened with the couples she’d observed at the diner.
She savored every moment because she wasn’t sure how many of them they had left.
Skye tugged at the door, making sure the deadbolt was secure. A glance out showed the parking lot was quiet, with only a scattering of trailers.
She went behind the counter and took out the cash drawer, then walked into the back room and began the laborious duty of counting the day’s profits.
The roll of quarters slipped from her hand and fell to the ground. It burst open in a silver explosion, coins bouncing everywhere.
“Wonderful.” She snorted as she got down on her hands and knees.
By the time she’d finished making up the deposit slip and sealed the canvas bag, it was almost one in the morning, well past her usual leaving time.
Skye stepped inside the convenience store for one last sweep to make sure the freezers were on and the lights off. The bright glare of a car’s headlights illuminated the dark room.
She frowned, turning to the door and making sure she’d flipped the sign. It didn’t really matter—if it were a late customer he’d move off soon enough once he saw there were no lights on and no one inside.
She drew a sharp breath, the possibility rearing up in front of her.
Could it be…
She stayed stock-still as the vehicle circled the gas station, once, twice, before stopping in the parking lot.
As soon as the car’s lights went out, she scampered to the main counter and crouched behind it, fighting back the fear twisting her gut into knots.
This had to be one of the Wolf’s drug mules.
And that meant she was right in the middle of a drug deal going down.
Chapter Nineteen
Skye stared at the black and white monitors, praying the vehicle had moved within view of the security cameras.
It had.
She snatched her phone out of her purse, intending to text Finn. Another glance at the clock mounted on the wall dashed her hopes on that. He’d be at the bar already, chatting up the older biker and working his way into getting a job offer.
A phone call now could kill all that. He’d leave to come get her and blow his cover, or it might interrupt a critical moment in trying to get in with the gang.
She couldn’t risk it.
Her finger hovered over the emergency call button. A simple tap and the police would be on the way, fire department, ambulance—the entire range of first responders.
Their arrival would kill any chance of getting a good recording of the drug deal, sending the bikers scrambling for cover and away from the Rest ‘n’ Relax forever.
She pulled her hand away and placed the phone face down on the floor, letting the screen go dark.
No.
She had to let the scenario play itself out.
She forced herself to take a slow, deep breath and steady herself. No one knew she was there, and all she had to do was wait until everyone left.
That was all.
Another sound reached her ears—the familiar loud roar of a motorcycle approaching.
It wasn’t alone.
She crouched down as the band of bikers came into the parking lot, spinning around the station in a slow orbit for five minutes. It made sense—they were checking to see if anyone else was around. Two of them tore off doing wheelies, zipping between the rows of trailers.
The lights flashed through the storefront again, forcing her to stay down behind the counter.
She looked up at the security mirror, set in the corner of the room. It gave her a good view of the aisles she couldn’t see from the cash register. Usually it helped keep an eye on possible shoplifters stuffing beef jerky and chocolate bars into their jackets. Now it showed a motorcycle as it came up to the store entrance, going so slow that the rider was dragging his feet along the ground to keep it balanced.
The bike stopped in front of the locked door. The engine cut out.
She stared at the security mirror and saw Mick Smith getting off the motorcycle.
As the other bikers continued their patrol through the area, Smith walked up to the door and yanked, hard enough to set the metal racks rattling against the glass windows.
Skye frowned, wondering if this was his usual routine. There was no reason for him to focus on the store, no reason for him to…
Her breath caught as she glanced at the cameras and spotted the car at the far edge of the parking lot.
The Jeep, sitting alone on the asphalt.
Her damned car was still in the parking lot.
Smith peered in through the door. He shifted down a few feet and looked in again. This went on for a few minutes as he made his way from one end of the front of the store to the other, looking in every crack and space he could.
She dropped to her stomach and flattened herself against the floor, hoping the Watleys’ prayers had some influence. If Mick Smith caught her here, now…
No force in the world would be able to save her.
After a few agonizing minutes, she glanced up at the monitors, the feed still recording back at the Devil’s Playground. This was what they needed. This is what the Brotherhood wanted.
It was possible the cameras could also end up taping a cold-blooded murder.
A rattling came at the back door. She swallowed hard, hoping the lock would hold.
Another bang and a thump, as if someone had punched the door.
Mick Smith came back into view on the black and white screen, having left the building itself and moved out into the parking lot. He swung the riding crop back and forth as if attacking an invisible target as he approached the waiting Dodge Charger.
The bikers slowed and came to a stop surrounding the idling car. It was only then that Skye noticed one of the men carried a passenger behind him on his motorcycle.
The man slid off and went to stand by the car, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he waited. He didn’t look like one of the bikers—his short hair and thick glasses made him seem more like a college student than a badass biker.
The car door opened and the driver got out. He wore a leather vest, the Wolf’s Teeth colors proudly on display.
He walked over to the biker who had carried the passenger in. He bumped fists with the man and straddled the bike behind the gang member.
The passenger walked over to the driver’s side of the car.
Mick handed him a folded page, talking rapidly. The young man nodded, his head bouncing up and down as he listened.
After Mick finished, the new driver got into the sedan and closed the door. He gave a cheerful thumbs-up before speeding out of the parking lot.
The other bikers went back to their rides and mounted up, revving the engines as they waited.
As she watched the metal ballet play out, Skye realized how the system worked.
The car cruised off into the night, now headed for wherever the gang got their heroin. The driver would return at some point, and the cycle would reverse itself—he’d be driven back to his drop-off point, and the car would be taken away. Once in the garage, it’d be torn apart, the drugs extracted and the car itself either scrapped for parts or recycled for another run.
Robby.
It didn’t take much to replace the fresh-faced young driver with her own brother, cheerfully taking the job with the promise of easy money waving in front of him.
Skye pushed back the pain, consoling herself that they now had video evidence of the car exchange.
The other bikers circled the building and left as well, heading back out on the highway on their way to the clubhouse or following the car to the storage building.
Except for one lonely bike sitting in front of the convenience store.
Skye realized with a shock that Mick hadn’t left yet. He was still standing by his bike, scowling as he studied the storefront.
He’d have two options when it came to reasoning out why the Jeep was in the parking lot—someone was still inside, a possible witness to their criminal activities, or someone left the car for the night.
She dropped to the floor again as he approached the store.
Mick pulled again on the door, hard. A bag of chips fell off the shelf, followed by a few packs of cigarettes breaking free from the racks over her head. They bounced off her back and shoulders, landing beside her.
Skye held her breath, watching the monitors. She didn’t dare raise her head and look over the counter.
The Wolf banged his fist against the window. For a long, horrible moment, she thought she heard the glass breaking under his blows, giving him access to the store.
Then…nothing.
Her lungs ached as she waited, frozen and barely breathing.
One minute passed. Two.
A motorcycle started up, the loud noise covering her soft cry as she exhaled.
The roar moved around her and faded into the distance. A glance at the monitors showed she was alone.
Skye went to stand up—then slipped back down.
Get up, she told herself. You’ve got to get out of here.
But…
She pulled her feet under her and leaned against the wall, fighting the fear threatening to engulf her.
They won’t be out there now.
They’re gone.
They’re not waiting for me.
They’re not waiting for me to come out so they can kill me.
They’re not.
The darkness swirled around her as she waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Chapter Twenty
“I don’t like commitments.” Jake scowled into his beer. “Last woman I saw more than a week got all serious, wanted to be my one and only, my old lady. I told her I haven’t had a steady girlfriend since high school and that wasn’t going to change. I like my life as it is, thank you very much.”
Finn nodded his agreement.
Over the past few weeks, he’d learned Jake had been a member of the Wolf’s Teeth for five years. He was a military veteran as well, giving the two men something to bond over other than cheap beer. Jake wasn’t going to spill the gang’s secrets to Finn, but he didn’t mind sitting beside him and telling him stories, likely the same ones he’d tortured the other bikers with for years. Finn was fresh meat and a good listener.
“Got me an ex-wife,” Finn replied, playing out his cover identity. He let out a sigh. “Damned woman’s bleeding me dry with alimony. You made the right decision, keeping them at arm’s length. Get pulled into putting a ring on it and you’ll end up paying for the rest of your life, with or without benefits.”
Jake snorted and shook his head. “Let me guess. High school sweetheart?”
“You got it. Promised me her heart and soul.” Finn pulled his lips back in a sneer. “And her body as well. Got married before my first tour. She’s all excited at marrying a grunt, figures she’s going to have a good time being a military wife and traveling ’round the world. Then she decides that she doesn’t like hopping from state to state, doesn’t like not being able to buy the latest fashions and go out clubbing with her girlfriends.” He swirled his beer around in the thick glass, careful to not slosh it over the edge. “Her family came from money, and she figured I’d be able to keep her living the high life.”
Jake snorted. “On a private’s salary? Not likely. And not with you getting into so much trouble. Might as well have put your stripes on with tape, they got pulled off so often.”
Finn’s backstory included an abbreviated military history including disciplinary issues and quite a few run-ins with the military police.
“So, I get my Dear John letter while I’m in-country. Come back and she’s emptied out the house and the bank account, run home to Mommy and Papa. Papers arrived a few days later, along with a demand for support because she gave up so much to be with me.” Finn put his fist over his heart with a dramatic sigh. “She was going to be a doctor, don’t you know. Until she ran off to slum it with me.”
Jake shook his head. “Let me guess. Judge ruled in her favor.”
“Yep. And her parents stood right there, pair of bobbleheads claiming she needed the cash. I’m on the hook for a shitload of money every month, and when I don’t send the check ’cause I’ve got no cash in the bank, they garnish my wages and leave me nothing to live on.”
Hard Run Page 13
