by Dixon, Ruby
I can’t help it; I shudder. “You’re a horrible man.”
“Baby, you don’t know the half of it.” He raps on the side of my cube wall. “Just be ready for Saturday night.”
“You never know,” I breathe. “Things might not go through.”
“Nobody’s going to go to jail over a piece of pussy,” he tells me in a cruel voice. “So tell your boys to bring their guns and to bring you, and I’ll give you back when I’m good and ready.”
I do my best to look sufficiently upset. All the while, I’m thinking of all the good footage he’s just given me.
• • •
While Beast is out making plans for his ‘inevitable’ return to jail, Muscle and I go over the footage that I got from Scorpion that day, and I show him the time sheets.
He’s skeptical that my plan will work. “This doesn’t seem like enough information.”
“Oh, trust me, it’s enough,” I tell him. “There just needs to be a whiff of sexual misconduct in the workplace and it can cost them a ton of money. And he doesn’t know enough about the business, so it’s a bluff. If he thinks he’s going to cause his dad’s company to go under, he’ll shut down fast.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“What do we have to lose?” I choke back a knot of misery at the thought. “At least this way, Beast has a fighting chance.”
“I don’t like that you’re involved, Shy-girl,” Muscle says, a frown on his handsome face. “Beast is gonna have my ass if anything happens to you.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I bluff. “Everyone wants me alive and healthy.” And on my back, apparently.
“So what do we do with this information?”
I consider it for a moment. “Does the club have a lawyer on retainer?”
“We do. He’s not exactly on the up and up.”
Heh. “Shades of Better Call Saul?”
“Something like that.” Muscle grins at me. “You wanna talk to him?”
I nod. “I want him to prep a ‘just in case’ for us. And we’ll present it to Scorpion and his buddies on Saturday.”
Muscle’s eyes narrow. “Beast is not going to want you coming to the meet up.”
“Then we’ll just have to tie him up, won’t we?” I wiggle my eyebrows at Muscle.
“I got a better idea,” Muscle says.
• • •
Beast
It’s the longest damn week of my life…and the shortest. Every moment seems to last an eternity, yet before I know it, Saturday has arrived. It feels too soon. I’m not ready to give up the life I’ve got with Shy and Muscle and my club, but I’m out of choices. This is the only way I can protect them.
I’ve fucked up somehow. If this is all that I’m good for, then I’ll gladly take the fall. I’ll be bitter about leaving them, but content knowing that I’ve protected them from worse.
I’ve tried to cram everything I can think of into this week. I’ve spent time with Shy, both in bed and out of it, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Muscle’s backed off this week and let me have her all to myself, and while it’s nice to be able to fuck her and not coordinate my movements with another man’s, it also feels like I’m already breaking down everything our relationship means. Shy suspects something’s up, but she hasn’t asked and I haven’t volunteered. Instead, I tell her that work is killing both of us with appointments. I haven’t worked all week, though. I’ve updated my will, and given Muscle power of attorney. I’ve transferred bank accounts to Muscle and Shy both, and I’ve left instructions for potential replacements for another Warlord.
And another ride partner for Muscle. Another man’s going to get to put his hands on Shy. It gnaws at me, but I force the traitorous feelings back.
Shy catches me staring out the window as we relax on the couch and watch TV. At least, I’m trying to relax. The meet’s not until midnight tonight, but I can’t concentrate. It’s only seven at night, and already I feel like this day has lasted forever. Her hand reaches up and she caresses my jaw. “You okay?”
I nip at her fingertip. “Just distracted.”
Muscle grabs the remote and flips channels while Shy continues to trace her fingers along the edge of my jaw. She gets touchy-feely when she wants sex, but rarely comes out and declares it. I’ve learned to interpret her caresses, and right now, she’s definitely in the mood.
Which is good. Maybe some goodbye sex will get our minds off things.
I move to put a hand around her waist, but to my surprise, she gets up. “You want a beer? I’m thirsty.” Then she turns and gives me a coy, flirty little look over her shoulder as she saunters to the kitchen.
“Beer,” Muscle calls, flipping channels.
“Beer for me too,” I say.
She returns a few minutes later with two beers, the caps off. She hands Muscle his and then gives me mine.
“Where’s your drink?” I ask her as I take a sip.
Shy grins and slides onto my lap, straddling me. “I only have two hands, you know.” And she reaches down between us and places them on my cock.
My brows go up. She’s forward tonight, which is surprising…and sexy. I lean in to kiss her and she shakes her head.
“Finish your beer,” she tells me, and rubs her hand against the seam of my jeans. “Then we’ll play.” She looks over at Muscle. “You want to join in?”
“In a bit,” he says, and sips his beer again, watching the TV screen. Then he turns and gives me a pointed look and I know he’s backing off again for my sake.
She rubs my cock again, her lips parted as she watches my face, and she’s so goddamn pretty that I put the beer to my lips and chug away, downing it as she drags her hand over my jeans-covered cock again. I’m already hard as fuck, just with a few touches of her fingers.
I finish my beer and she plucks the bottle from my fingers and sets it down on the coffee table. “Shall we head to bed?”
“Kinda early, don’t you think?” I ask, but if I can wear her out before midnight, she can be sleeping by the time we head out for the meet. Not a bad idea.
She shrugs and rocks her hips on my lap suggestively. “I’m in the mood for an early night.”
I slide her off my lap and get to my feet, then take her hand. “Then by all means, let’s go to bed.”
Shy grins back at me, and as we head up the stairs, she’s sashaying and swinging her hips for my benefit. They’re almost hypnotic, those shaking hips, and I stumble as we head up the stairs.
“Oops,” she says, and her hands go to me. “You okay?”
I nod, rubbing my forehead. I feel stupid for almost face planting. “Just wasn’t paying attention to my steps. I was paying attention to your ass.”
She chuckles and takes my hand, and leads me to the bedroom. Once in there, she doesn’t get undressed. Instead, she leads me toward the edge of the bed, and then gently pushes me backward. She climbs over me, her hips rocking against mine, and then leans forward and kisses me. Soft, sweet, pressing kisses.
“I love you,” she murmurs between kisses. “I love you so much, Cal.”
“I love you too, Cheyenne, baby.” Her soft lips are so relaxing and sweet, and she just keeps kissing me and I enjoy the affection. It’s not until several more minutes pass that I realize I’m becoming sleepy. I lift a hand to cup her breast, only to find out that my limbs feel heavy. I frown. “Something’s…wrong…” Fuck, even my voice is slurred.
“It’s okay,” she tells me softly. She sits up and her hand caresses my face, a worried look in her eyes. “Me and Muscle, we’re going to take care of everything tonight, all right?” Her hand slides down to my chest and she pats me. “No one’s taking you from us.”
She’s speaking, but her words aren’t making sense to me. In fact, nothing’s making sense to me. I just want to take a nap. Can’t, though, the meet’s in a few hours.
“Shy,” I manage, but the words feel dragged from my mouth.
“Shhh,” she says in a soft voice.
Just then, I hear Muscle enter the room. “It working?”
“He’s not asleep yet,” Shy says.
“You…you guys drugged me?” I’m shocked.
Shy leans in and kisses me again, hard. “You saved my ass once,” she says. “It’s my turn to return the favor.”
I want to protest, but I’m too tired. I sink into oblivion.
Chapter Seven
Shy
I sigh at the sight of Beast asleep in our bed. His lips are parted, his craggy face relaxed in drugged sleep. “I feel like the biggest ass in the world for roofie-ing him.”
“Yeah, but if we didn’t, he’d have insisted on coming with us,” Muscle says. “And for this to work, he needs to not be present.”
I nod. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. “You think he’ll be mad when he wakes up?”
Muscle chuckles. “Oh yeah.”
Ugh. “I guess we’d better get this show on the road, then.” I press one last kiss to Beast’s mouth, and then we’re off.
Scorpion said he wanted me in lingerie tonight. He’s gonna be in for a rude surprise, because I’m wearing my property patch tonight over a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans and some lace-up Docs. Muscle looks pretty badass in a similar get-up, and I’m hoping for an ‘I’m his old lady’ vibe more than badassery.
I ride on the back of Muscle’s bike, the paperwork clutched to my chest tightly. We meet up at the Meat Locker with Handlebar and Crash, the club’s VPs, along with newly teamed up Epic and Lock. It’s not exactly a full-out show of force, but it’s enough to tell the Hard Nine that we mean business and to not pull any shit. They hand out guns and knives, just in case things get ugly, and I watch grimly, almost hoping that Scorpion’s stupid enough to pull something.
Shooting him might make everything a lot easier.
“We ready for this?” Handlebar asks. He’s a guy with a thick beard despite being about the same age as Muscle, and covered in tattoos and piercings. He looks fierce as hell, the epitome of biker. In contrast, his buddy Crash looks like he just got out of the military academy, right down to the square set of his jaw and his buzzed, short hair. Neither one of them looks like someone to be fucked with, especially with the sawed-off shotgun that Handlebar’s got tucked under his arm.
“Ready,” I say, and I don’t even stutter. I am. I want to put this asshole in his place.
Handlebar grins and kisses the barrel of his gun before sliding it into a custom-made holster under his arm. “Let’s go have ourselves a party, then.”
“I want a gun first,” I say. “I’m not going in unarmed.”
“You don’t want to get caught up in a gunfight, Shy-girl,” Muscle says, his protective side getting the better of him.
I just give him a look. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah.” He grins.
“You know I can handle a gun.” He saw me shoot my own brother.
“Hell.” Muscle pulls out a revolver and hands it to me.
Crash smirks. “I like her.”
“She’s mine and Beast’s,” Muscle says. “That doesn’t change, no matter what.”
“Damn right,” I agree. Whatever happens tonight, nothing amongst the three of us is changing. We’re forever.
• • •
I have to admit, Scorpion and Rocket look a little surprised to see me and Muscle roll up without Beast and with company. That’s one knock in our favor, and I’m about to send a few more in our direction. I hop off of Muscle’s bike — Beast would shit a brick to see me riding without a helmet, but I want them to see my face, to see that I’m not scared — and head in their direction.
“Hello, boys,” I say, my voice sweet. “We’re here for the meet.”
“You weren’t supposed to bring company,” Scorpion snarls. “What the fuck is all this?”
“Why, it’s just our crew.” I flutter my lashes. “Yours didn’t want to come by and conduct business with you? Or are you doing this on your own?”
Scorpion’s jaw clenches and his friend says nothing at all, which makes me think that I might have pegged this exactly. Interesting.
“I see they brought you. Where are the guns?”
“They’re where they belong,” I say. “And they’re going to stay there. I’m changing the deal.”
“I ain’t interested in changing it.”
“I didn’t ask you.” I pull out the folder from my jacket and hold it out to him. “Here’s the thing. Blackmail only works if no one has anything they can turn around and blackmail you with.”
“What’s this?”
“This is my blackmail material,” I say brightly. “You want to blackmail us, I’m going to blackmail you back.”
The expression on his face turns murderous. He looks as if he’d like to call me several four letter words. “You can’t fucking blackmail me.”
“Oh, I sure can. Trust me on that.”
He glares at me, then at the packet, so I shake it at him. “Go on, take it.”
“Not until you tell me what it is.”
I shrug. “Fair enough. This set of documents here,” I begin, pulling out a few pages, “are documents stating sexual harassment at work premises by a relative of the boss. These other documents are a transcript of a recording of said sexual harassment and misconduct. These pages over here are copies of the time sheets that show that all the women in the office are making significantly less than the men, which will help me build a case showing that your dad’s company is a very threatening atmosphere for a woman to work in. And I’m sure that once the other women in the office find out what they’re making compared to the men? They’d be super interested in hearing details of my lawsuit.” I slide the pages back into the folder and hold it out to him again.
He takes it, his eyes narrowed as he looks at me. Then he tosses it to the ground. “I don’t give a fuck about my dad’s company.”
“I bet you do, considering he probably paid for that fancy Harley you’ve got there,” Muscle comments. “Looks like a custom build to me. Nice one, too.”
For the first time, I notice that Scorpion’s riding a much bigger, much more souped bike than his buddy is. His buddy notices it, too.
I point at the discarded folder. “None of that information goes anywhere as long as the information about the gun dealer goes nowhere. The moment a policeman shows up on my doorstep? I’m filing against you and against your dad’s company. Sexual harassment lawsuits are not cheap, and I won’t rest until every goddamn penny is sucked out of that business.”
He snorts, clearly not believing a word I say.
“And I’m going to tell that officer all about how you knew about the murder investigation and withheld information specifically to blackmail me and my men. The police won’t like that. You’ll go down as an accessory and for obstructing justice. Beast will be sure and save you a spot in prison.”
“You’ll go down, too,” he sneers. “Gonna indict yourself?”
“Nope,” I tell him. Time for my biggest bluff, one I pitched to Muscle as we drove up here. “You see, I’m married to Beast, and we all know married people can’t testify against one another.” I shrug delicately. “Shame, isn’t it? You send my man to prison, and I send you with him.”
He’s not laughing now.
“So go on,” I say, hands on hips. “I’m calling your bluff. Go tell your club you started shit with the Bedlam Butchers and sent their Warlord to prison. Go tell them you’re about to head off yourself.”
“Go tell them we’re going to wipe every one of your goddamn sorry asses off the planet while you’re at it,” Handlebar drawls from behind me. “You think we ain’t cut pissant clubs down to size before? Just fucking try us, boy.”
At Scorpion’s side, his buddy reaches into his jacket.
The moment he does, I hear the sound of multiple guns clicking as chambers are locked.
“Go on,” Muscle says in a low voice. “Gimme a fucking reason.”
I hold my breath, feeling faint. If this turns into a gun fight, I’m right in the middle of things. I’ve been calm — even cocky — up until now. If they call my bluff and start shooting, they’ll die, but…I’ll get shot, too.
The standstill goes on for a long, tense moment. Then, Scorpion shakes his head. “Back off, man.”
“You said this’d be easy money,” his buddy growls, low enough that only Scorpion — and me — can hear.
“Fuck off,” he says to his friend, then glares at me again. “You want to play games?”
“You started the games,” I tell him, breathing a little easier now. “I’m just showing you I can bring it, too.”
His jaw grinds for a moment, and then he spits at my feet. “Fuck you, cunt. This ain’t the last you’re gonna see of the Hard Nine.”
I shrug. Inside, I’m jubilant. Those are the words guys say when they back down. I’ve won.
I played hardball and I fucking won.
I can barely contain my glee as Scorpion starts his bike, glares at his friend, and then they coast away. Calmly, I go to the folder and pick it up off the ground where Scorpion left it. Half of what I told him was a bluff, but it didn’t matter. I have no idea if I’d be forced to testify against Beast or not, but I do know that spouses are exempt from some stuff.
Thing is, I just came up with the spouse thing on the fly. I have no idea if Beast wants to marry me or not, especially under duress.
“You got balls of fucking steel, Shy-girl,” Muscle says, and he’s coming to my side. He grabs me and swings me around in his arms, laughing. Then he clutches me against him, chokingly tight. His hand strokes my hair. “And if you ever fucking do that again, I’m going to kill you.”
I nod against his chest. “I d-didn’t st-st-stutter the entire t-t-time,” I tell him proudly, though now my stutter seems to be making up for things.
Muscle just holds me against him. “You did fucking amazing,” he tells me in a soft voice. “So fucking amazing.”
“So, what now?” Handlebar asks.
