Candi’s Debt

by Aubrey Cara

  When we finally stop we’re in front of a secluded trailer. Now this is the kind of place where I’d expect a drug dealer to hide out.

  My body is still humming from the ride, and my legs and butt have gone numb. Hank has to help me off the bike and I still stumble a step before I find my balance.

  He takes the helmet off of me and barely glances my way before he says, “Head inside and warm up.” Until he says that I don’t even realize I’m shivering. Besides being exposed to the wind, I’m dropping from adrenaline.

  Holy Hannah, we were shot at. Hank shot someone.

  Hank’s walking the bike around behind the trailer cool as can be like this is something he’s done a million times. I never want to do this again. I’ve had as much excitement as I can handle. I thought I was done with this kind of crap when I exited my dad’s life.

  I go up to the door and go in on shaky legs. It’s more like the inside of one of those trailers at construction sites. It’s a single wide with thin blue carpet. There’s a couch in the center, a kitchenette to the left and a desk to the far right.

  I snatch the blanket that’s folded up on the couch and wrap it around myself. My poor legs and arms have little red marks from where I was hit by bugs along our mad dash to freedom. More than a few times my brother, dad, and I had to make a run for it, but never anything like that.

  We were shot at!

  Now that we’re not running my mind is flooding with questions. Who the hell is Hank, and why the hell was he at that poker game tonight? And what’s more, why the hell did we exit by gun point?

  Shit. Dylan.

  If Dom’s pissed he’s going to go for my brother. I have to warn him. I shrug off the blanket and I’m yanking open the door right as Hank comes in.

  “My brother. I have to call him. Dom, Dom is insane. I have to warn him.”

  “Calm down,” he says, rubbing my arms and steering me toward the couch. He picks up the blanket and puts it back on my shoulders.

  Agitated, I knock his hands away. “You don’t understand. What the hell is wrong with you?” He’s insane if he thinks I’m going to be calm right now. “What were you thinking? Dom’s men are the ones that beat him up in the first place. He owes Dom money. I’ve been trying to fix it, but everything just keeps going so damn wrong.” I’m choking on tears of frustration. I was so close to being free and clear. Then that damn biker cheated, and Hank. Damn Hank. “You just made everything so much worse. They’re going to kill my brother.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  HANK

  I curse under my breath. What she’s saying has to be true. I’m sure there is more to the story, but damn. I pull out my cell phone, but I already know I have a limited signal out here. This is the safehouse. Slater said it was off the grid and hell if he wasn’t being honest. We’re out in the sticks.

  I was supposed to provide a distraction this afternoon, hightail it out of there and hope Dom, AKA Maxwell Huntington, and his goons followed. Little did I know how big of a distraction it was going be.

  Jesus H.

  I’d stopped by Candi’s house on the way out to the club. Her brother and his friend had told me they’d fixed her jeep. Then they shifted uncomfortably as they told me she wasn’t around, and they had no idea where she’d gone. I’d known they’d been full of shit. I’d still been shocked as hell when I saw her Renegade parked in the parking lot of Sugar Daddy’s. When I’d come in and spotted her sitting there looking all spring and sunshine in the little feminine white top she’s wearing, her hair falling around her shoulders, I almost dragged her out, then and there. She’d looked like she should have been in a garden somewhere sipping sun tea. Not a fucking strip club, sipping some kind of scotch and smoking a cigarette.

  She says I made everything worse, but this could have all been prevented if she’d been honest with me from the fucking beginning.

  I’m holding the phone up to my ear, but nothing. Damn it. I send out a text; There’s a complication. Get in touch.

  So much for small favors. Slater bailed my ass out of a tight spot in Kosovo. Looks like he’s going to be bailing me out again. I’m supposed to stay holed up here until I get the all clear, but that’s no longer an option. I have to get ahold of Slater and make sure Dylan is taken out of the area.

  The plan had been to send Dom scrambling in different directions so he doesn’t even know his operation is being taken down until it’s too late. Hell, I certainly sent them scrambling. When I spoke to Slater, he said they were close, damn close. I hope that still holds true.

  I look down at Candi. She’s a wreck, crying and babbling shit. “Hey,” I say grabbing her arms and giving her a little shake. “I need you to keep it together. I have to go, but you’re going to stay here. There is food, and there should be some clothes in the back room.”

  “Wait,” she says, her eyes going wide. “You’re leaving? You can’t leave.”

  “There’s no signal out here. I have to get in touch with my contact and try to get your brother somewhere safe. Meanwhile, you’ll be safe here.” My mind is already racing to the next step as I open the door.

  She latches onto my wrists. “I’m going with you.”

  “Princess, this is not up for discussion. I should be painting your ass red for being at that strip club in the first place.”

  “I had to be at that club.”

  “That’s up for debate, one I don’t have time for.”

  “Please, Hank, take me with you. That’s my brother. You can punish me however you like later, but don’t leave me here.”

  She’s plastered her front up against me when she tells me I can punish her however I like. Jesus, I’m only a man and after everything that happened this afternoon I’m wound tight as a drum. I want nothing more right now than to push her up against the wall and drill my dick into her until we’re both cross-eyed. I’m willing my hard on to die down and I promise myself I will be doing so much more than just punishing her, later.

  “I can’t stay here by myself. If you leave, I don’t care if I have to walk back to Gibson, I will. With or without you.”

  I grit my teeth. “You are a pain in my ass, princess. You know that?” Fuck. I know she would be better off staying here, but looking down into her big, blue eyes, full of fear and determination I can feel myself give in. “You will listen to everything I say. If I say jump, you jump. No hesitation. No argument.”

  She nods her head, and I pull her face up. “Yes daddy?” I say.

  “Yes, daddy,” she grudgingly parrots, now doing the sexy little pout that makes me think of all the things I want to do with her mouth.

  “I’m serious, Candice.”

  “I know. I’ll be good. I promise.”

  The statement, so innocently stated hits me square in the groin and I fight a groan. I wish she’d say that shit under entirely different circumstances. As is, this is not the time, as much as my dick is wishing it were.

  We head out around back, she says, “We’re not getting back on the motorcycle are we?”

  I take in her appearance. Her hair that hadn’t been under the helmet is a snarly, tangled mess. Her shirt is looking dingy, and her arms and legs have red little nicks on them. We rode hell for leather out here for over an hour. I can’t put her back on the bike dressed like that. Her delicate skin is chafed enough from the wind as it is.

  “Come on,” I say, heading back inside. I find the bag of clothes that were left for me. “Here,” I say pulling out jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. “Put these on.” They’ll be much too big but at least she’ll be covered.

  She doesn’t even take off her clothes, but just slips the jeans and shirt on over them. I find a belt and cinch it tight around her slim waist. Rather than rolling the pants we cut off the legs. She’s rolled the sleeves on the shirt but one side keeps slipping down over her hand.

  I feel a grin tugging up the corner of my lips, despite the circumstances. I’m still pissed as hell she’s put herself in this situation—and
she will be telling me the story in full later—but I have to admit, she looks damn cute drowning in these clothes.

  “Are you smiling?” she asks, looking at me incredulously.

  I wipe the smirk off my face. “Just thinking about all the ways I’m going to tan your hide later on, princess.”

  She huffs and rolls her eyes. “You would. Can we just go make sure my brother is all right?” Her voice catches on the last. I’ve got nine years’ worth of being in high risk situations but no matter how she grew up, she’s not used to this shit.

  “Hey,” I say, cupping her cheek. “I’m going to do all I can to make sure Dom doesn’t get to Dylan.” I don’t tell her that it may be too late. It’s been over an hour. If he were going to pick the kid up, there was nothing stopping him.

  “My brother joined the army. He’s supposed to leave in the morning. We should be spending our last night together,” she says with a sniff.

  “Well, hopefully, Dylan has gone out to celebrate or commiserate his leaving,” I say, trying to be optimistic. The harder it is to find him, the better. “Hey, didn’t you have a shift tonight at the bar?”

  “Shit,” she says looking miserable. “Yeah, I do, or I did.”

  I sling an arm around her shoulder and kiss her forehead. “Let’s go, princess. We need to get close enough to civilization that I can get a hold of my contact.”

  “Your contact? You know,” she says, as she climbs on the back of the bike and twists her hair back before putting the helmet on. “When all this is over, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

  “Likewise, princess,” I say over the roar of the engine. “Likewise.”

  *** ***

  We’re at a diner thirty minutes out, off the side of the highway where I finally get a signal. Her brother isn’t answering his phone, and neither is his friend Byron. This sends up a red flag in my mind, but I tell Candi they’re probably out getting shitty. Doing guy stuff.

  She still looks worried, but at least I can assure her I’ve gotten ahold of Slater and apprised him of the situation.

  Slater huffed. “Fucking hell man. Are you and the girl at least at the safehouse?”

  “Negative. I couldn’t get a signal. We had to leave.”

  “We?” he sighs from the other end. I’ve known Slater Ross for years, but I don’t really know, know the guy. He’s hard to read. Since an explosion messed up his vocal cords his voice is always like steel and gravel. I can’t tell whether he’s pissed off or amused right now. “Try to get back to the safehouse. I know Marines are thick headed but they call it a safe house for a reason. We’ll put an APB out on the brother, and for fucksake try not to get dead in the next twenty-four hours.”

  After he cuts off I call the bar to let tonight’s crew know they’ll be one short then pocket my phone and go back inside.

  Candi is plowing through pancakes and eggs, while I eat a burger that’s surprisingly not bad. “Are you going to finish your fries?” she asks looking hungrily at my plate.

  “Have at it.” I push my plate toward her and she starts demolishing my fries and chugging her chocolate milk. I have no idea how this girl keeps her figure if she eats like this on the regular.

  She catches me watching her, a rosy blush coming to her cheeks as she shrugs. “I stress eat,” she says around a mouthful. It’s unexpectedly adorable. When something tastes especially good her eyes roll back, and she groans just like she does when she’s getting close to orgasm. I’ve never thought I could get hot watching a chick eat, but I may someday have to tie Candice up naked and feed her little morsels of food.

  I put my hands up, shrugging. “Hey, no judgment.”

  “I’d have a cigarette, but someone’s being a real dick about that.”

  “Watch it,” I say staring her down. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.” I’m satisfied when I see her squirm and look around.

  “What the hell do you care, Hank?” she asks in a hiss, as to not be overheard. “I was under the impression you could give two shits about me.”

  It’s a fair question after how I’d left things. “As I recall, I said I cared, then you were the one who said she felt nothing for me.”

  Her face falls, and I regret saying anything. It was much too revealing a statement and I sound like a whiny bitch.

  “Hank, what I said. It wasn’t true. I’m really sorry.”

  “Forget it. We’ve got bigger fish to fry. I need you to tell me everything about you and your brother’s involvement with Dom.”

  She wipes her mouth looking around. “Here?”

  “No, we have to head back.”

  “To Gibson?”

  “No.”

  She sighs sitting back. “What about my brother?”

  “There’s an APB out on him.”

  “What?!” Her eyes bug. “So he’s just going to be picked up like a criminal?”

  “No, like a person who is being saved from getting killed by criminals.”

  “The police can’t pick my brother up. You don’t know everything.”

  “I don’t think we have much choice in the matter, do you? What would be worse, the cops or Dom?”

  She shrugs, picking at the remaining fries, but no longer eating. “He’s everything to me. He’s all I got. I can’t remember a time I wasn’t taking care of Dylan.”

  There’s nothing I can say that won’t be inadequate. I’ve never had that kind of love for anyone and I can’t promise to save the kid. My number one priority is trying to keep her safe. I’d rather watch as my guts get ripped out than to have anything happen to this girl. So, maybe I’m starting to understand how she feels about her brother, but there’s still jack I can do about it. And isn’t that the most frustrating shit of all.

  I’ve never had a hero complex, but it seems I’m developing the condition. It’s like a damn rash.

  I toss a twenty on the table and we head out.

  “Hank, where’s the bike?”

  Funny. I was wondering the same fucking thing. I scan the parking lot but I know that thing is long gone. Fuck. In my mind I’m smashing my fist into the wall and blowing shit up, but outside I just roll my shoulders and will my jaw to loosen. We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere and my bike just got stolen.

  No. Fucking. Problem.

  “Oh, hey!” Candi’s striding across the lot, waving down a trucker, while she holds up her oversized pants with the other hand. I wonder what the hell she’s doing. “Howdy there. I was wondering if we could hitch a ride? Just to the next town or…somewhere.”

  “You can have a ride,” he says, his insinuation clear. The trucker is indiscriminately aged and round in the middle. He wears a cap that says “I’d rather be fishing” and from the sweat stains on his t-shirt I’d guess he’s been driving for a while. That or he has a general disinterest in basic hygiene.

  “Well, that would be great,” Candi says, all chipper as can be. She either doesn’t know this sleazy douche is hitting on her or she’s chosen to pointedly misunderstand. Knowing Candi, I’m guessing the latter. “My boyfriend’s bike got stolen and we’re stranded here.”

  It kicks me when she calls me her boyfriend. I can’t remember the last time I was referred to as anyone’s boyfriend.

  “Is that right?” The trucker hitches his pants up and scans his eyes over me. “And if I haul y’all to wherever, what I’m going to get out of it? I don’t haul nothing I don’t get compensated for, if you know what I mean?”

  I’m clear as day on his meaning and it’s taking everything in me not to smash this asshole’s face in and steal his truck. It would serve him the fuck right. I cross my arms over my chest to keep from punching him. “I can pay you for the ride.”

  The trucker spits, and jerks his head in Candi’s direction. “What about her?”

  “She’s not for sale.”

  We stare each other down, but it’s a pissing contest this asshole’s not about to win. He’s trying to get my measure. Spot a weakness. I look back at him.
I make sure he knows I’d break him in a heartbeat and pick my teeth with his bones. He knows it too because a second later he nods. “I’ll take y’all wherever, as long as I’m heading that way. No funny business.”

  We’re settling into the cab of this guy’s semi when Candi asks, “Oh, is this your family?” There is a picture on the dashboard of a mean looking woman, three scruffy looking kids, and two mangy looking dogs.

  “Yep. That’s my wife Jeni, and our boys Scout, Scooter, and Scotty. They’re my heart and soul.”

  I roll my eyes and refrain from pointing out not two seconds ago he was trying to get sex from the woman he’s now bragging about his family to.

  “Ooh, you went with all ‘S’es,” Candi gushes. “I love it when a family has theme names. My dad’s name is Ray and my older brothers are Ronnie and Robbie. It’s a wonder I wasn’t named Rachel and my other brother Rick or something. Was the ‘S’ theme your idea or your wife’s?”

  The trucker shrugs as we get on our way. “It just sorta happened. One boy’s named after my pappy, one after Jeni’s pappy. Then the last boy we named after the bloodhound I had when I was a boy.”

  “I never had a dog,” Candi says sadly. “I always thought if I had one I’d name him Butch…or Charlie.”

  “Fine names. Damn fine names. I once had a one-eyed dog named Steve.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  HANK

  It is an hour before we come across a hotel off the side of the freeway. It’s a Comfort Inn and Suites and not nearly as inconspicuous as I could have hoped for. A rundown motel would be better for laying low. The kind of place where everyone has secrets and no one looks at you twice, but if I don’t get out of this truck I’m going to shoot myself.