“Yes. Next question,” I say quickly as I fill up another container.
“What do you know about them?” he asks, pushing the green salad leaves around his plate.
“How long have you got?” I reply, shrugging. “A direct question would be more helpful. I’m not interested in whatever psych test you’re trying to put me through by just letting me talk,” I tell them, and I’m told that I’m correct by the choking sound that Mr. Tall makes.
“Fair enough,” his boss says. “Do you believe they’re involved in illegal activity?”
“Yes.”
“What kinds of illegal activity do you believe they’re involved in?” Warner asks.
“You name it, they’ve probably done it,” I reply vaguely.
“Do you have any proof of any of these activities?” Warner asks, taking another bite of his omelet and nodding absently at how good it is.
“Other than my own accounts and those of anyone else you manage to get to talk around here, no,” I say, realizing where this is going.
“What about the army truck? What do you know about that?” Warner asks.
“I know that it wasn’t an accident,” I reply confidently.
“Again, do you have any proof other than your own account of events?” Warner asks.
“No.” I shake my head. I ask myself how I could have been so stupid as to think that my word would be enough to take down the Bleeding Angels. This wasn’t a fairy story—the Feds weren’t going to just come in, wave their magic wands and presto! All would be well in Painted Rock.
“Would you be willing to assist us further in our enquiries?” Warner asks, pulling out his wallet and counting out some dollar bills.
“Yes,” I say, “But you need to be quick. They’re about to patch another member against his will.” I come across more emotional than I have all night.
“No doubt,” Warner replies dryly. “But these things take time and without hard evidence of wrongdoing, our hands are tied,” he explains, dropping the bills on the table and signaling to Mr. Tall that it’s time to go.
“That’s it?” I ask, not able to avoid looking at them. “You’re just leaving?”
“Thank you for your help, Miss Winters,” Warner says, looking at the ground in front of him and pretending to tie his shoelaces. “We’ll be in touch.”
“You’ll be in touch when?” I ask, desperately. “You need to do something now.”
“We’re working on it, Miss Winters. Believe me, we’re working on it,” Warner replies. “We’ll be seeing you.” With that, they’re both out the door.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“The Feds—are you serious?” Jake asks, handing me the milky coffee I’ve asked for. I’m way too jittery to go to bed now anyway.
“As a heart attack,” I reply, taking a long swallow of the scalding liquid.
“And they just told you they were Feds?” he asks, pacing up and down the room the way he always does when he has too much energy to cope with.
“Not exactly. But it doesn’t matter now anyway,” I say, feeling more hopeless than I’ve allowed myself to since that night my house burned its shadow into the sky.
“Why? Why not?” Jake asks, looking at me over his shoulder.
“Because they’re not going to be able to do anything in time!” I blurt out, putting my head in my hands.
“Aimee, Aimee,” Jake coos, rushing over to me and pulling my hands away from my face. “I already knew that. I never thought I was going to get a free pass.”
“What?” I ask, shocked. “This whole time you’ve just been preparing yourself for becoming an Angel? I thought we were a team, that we were going to try to find a way out for us.”
“And we will, but maybe not right now,” Jake assures me. “If the Feds are involved, then we both know it’s only a matter of time. Something is going to happen one way or another.” He shrugs.
“How can you be so calm about this?” I ask, fighting the urge to scream at him.
“I’ve thought about it a lot,” Jake admits. “And even if I get Patched, that doesn’t mean anything. In a little while, the Feds will get involved, and whatever the Angels were will be no more. It’s as simple as that.”
“You really believe that?” I ask, trying to keep my bottom lip from quivering at the idea of him getting patched. “But, before you couldn’t stand the idea of becoming one of them,” I remind him, not understanding where this newfound, zen-like calm has come from. “You were prepared to shoot your way out if you had to.”
“I know, I know, but I’ve made my peace with it. I know that it isn’t going to be forever. That it’ll just be for a little while. I just have to hold on for a little while,” he tells me.
“But what if the Feds take too long or what if they don’t find any evidence against the Angels? What then?” I ask, challenging him.
“That won’t happen,” he says confidently.
“I’m going to help them,” I tell Jake. “If they ask me to get information for them or whatever it is, I’ll help them.”
“I know you will,” Jake replies, stroking my cheek. “And I know that even if I told you not to get involved, that it’s too dangerous, that you would do it anyway.”
“Damn straight,” I agree, sniffing to keep myself from crying.
“We’re going to be okay,” Jake assures me. “We’re going to get through this.” I lay my head against his, wanting to believe him.
That night I huddle closer to Jake in bed, and I don’t think it’s my imagination when he holds me a little tighter too.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The next evening marks day seven before the end of our month is up. I try not to focus on the almost inevitable fact that Jake will be taken by the Angels and just absorb every possible minute with him that I can.
I’m trying to train my mind to be as positive about the Feds as Jake is. Agent Warner had said they’d be in touch with me—I just had to hope that he meant sooner rather than later. The sooner he reappears is the sooner I can tell him that I’ll do whatever they need to take the Angels down. I repeat what Jake had said over and over again in my head; that we’re going to be okay, that we’re going to get through this. I almost start to believe it.
“Chinese?” Jake asks as he sifts through the take-out menus that are overflowing in their designated drawer in his kitchen. Yes, the take-out menus get their own drawer—that’s how much the Summers men cook.
“Do you even know how to boil an egg?” I ask, teasingly. I come up behind Jake, snaking my arms around his waist.
“I know what an egg is,” Jake replies, jokingly.
“Great,” I say, giving his butt a little slap. “Well use that knowledge to grab me some from the refrigerator,” I instruct him. “I’m going to teach you how to make scrambled eggs.”
“You’re going to teach me how to cook?” he asks, dubiously. “Isn’t that a little like the blind leading the blind? I’ve tasted your food, remember?” he reminds me. “It’s not good.” He looks a little afraid as I hold up the one wooden spoon he has to his name.
“Are you going to criticize my cooking skills, Mr. I Don’t Know How to Make Toast? Or are you going to watch and learn?” I ask, putting my hand on my hip, challenging him.
Jake thinks for a moment and then asks, “Can I do both?”
I laugh and try to rap him on the butt with the spoon, but he’s too quick for me. Too quick and too strong. He manages to disarm me and pull me down onto the floor in only two moves. He doesn’t hurt me. He just makes it clear that, in this moment, he’s in charge.
“I know, you’re not a very experienced cook,” I tell him, between kisses. “But it’s really hard to make scrambled eggs from this position.” Jake straddles me on the floor and starts letting his fingers explore what I’m wearing underneath my top, which isn’t very much.
“I’m not that hungry anyway,” Jake admits, smiling at me.
“Chinese sounds good,” I agree hurriedly, pulling him
down on top of me and kissing him passionately. Screw the eggs—all I can think about right now is how much I want this man.
Before we get any further there’s a rattle that sounds like someone is taking off the chain from the back door. Jake and I stop our fumbling and we freeze, listening out for the sound again. The chain rattles once more, and we both know that something is up. We look at each other, both thinking the same thing—the Angels have come for him. They’re tired of waiting and have gone back on their word.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Stay here,” Jake orders me as he pulls the T-shirt that he’d discarded back on and heads down the stairs.
“Like hell,” I mutter under my breath, pulling my top back up to some level of decency. I tip-toe to the top of the stairs so I can get a look at what’s going on. From the angle I’m at, all I can see is Jake yanking open the door and talking to someone on the other side.
“What are you doing here?” Jake asks, his tone harsher than I think I’ve ever heard it.
“Easy, lover boy, no need to get all bent out of shape,” the weedy voice replies, chuckling lightly. The sound immediately makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“What are you doing here, Ryan?” Jake repeats, folding his arms and planting his feet firmly on the ground. I can see that the muscles in his back are bunching and getting ready in case he has to fight.
“Chill, man,” Ryan insists, and his hyena-like laugh makes me wonder if he’s high. “I’m not here for you. Not yet anyway,” he assures Jake. His hand darts out and slaps Jake on the shoulder in what was probably supposed to be a patronizing gesture. But Jake sidesteps him, making Ryan stumble, and I see his shoes appear as he almost falls into the body shop.
“Don’t touch me.” Jake’s voice is ice-cold and I pray that he’s not preparing himself to do something stupid.
“Don’t be an idiot Jakey-boy,” Ryan taunts. “You’re on thin ice, you know that. If your little girlfriend hadn’t saved your ass you’d be a Patch now and you’d be doing exactly what I tell you,” he says, sounding overjoyed at the prospect.
“What do you want, Ryan?” Jake repeats again, his voice coming out through gritted teeth. I know that he’s all too aware that if he ever became a member of the Bleeding Angels, he’d be on the lowest rung and Ryan would do all he could to make his life a living hell.
“Aimee,” he replies, and the way he says my name makes my stomach roll. “I want to talk to Aimee.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jake asks, taking another step towards the door, forcing Ryan to step outside. His feet disappear from my view completely. “And what is it that you want to talk to her about?” Jake tilts his head, probably trying to assess just how out of it Ryan actually is.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ryan teases with that hyena-like laugh of his again. “That’s between Aimee and me.”
“Well, that’s a real shame,” Jake says sarcastically. “She’s not here. So whatever thrilling piece of conversation you have planned for this evening it isn’t going to happen. See you, Ryan.” Jake starts to close the door in Ryan’s face, but a hand shoots out, keeping the door open.
“Be smart here, Jakey-boy,” Ryan hisses, and he seems to have shaken off the haziness that whatever drug he’s on had cast over him. “Do you really want to piss me off? Scar might’ve given you a pass for a week or so, but that doesn’t mean that you might not have some kind of accident in the meantime,” he finishes innocently.
“Are you threatening me?” Jake asks, his voice low. I know that his anger levels are reaching stratospheric levels.
“‘Threaten’ is such an ugly word, isn’t it?” Ryan asks. “More like ‘incentivizing,’” he corrects. “That’s a much better word, isn’t it?”
“Get out of here, Ryan,” Jake orders.
“What are you going to do? Call the cops?” Ryan lets out another high-pitched laugh that sets my teeth on edge. “Be smart here, Jake. The next time I come round I won’t be so polite.” There’s steel in his voice that I haven’t heard before.
“Enough,” I say loudly before I’ve really had time to get to grips with my actions. My voice silences the two men and, as I start walking down the stairs, I take a moment to shake off the nerves that Ryan’s presence in the body shop has given me.
Jake is looking at me like he doesn’t know whether to kiss me or to shout at me. At the moment, he seems to be leaning towards the latter. “Aimee,” he says warningly, and he grabs hold of my hand.
“It’s okay, Jake,” I assure him. “You’ll be right here with me.” He visibly relaxes, turning his attention back to the sorry excuse for a human being that we have in front of us. “So, Ryan, what is it that you wanted to say to me that couldn’t wait until, oh I don’t know, never?” I ask sarcastically, before I remind myself that antagonizing a sociopath probably isn’t the most intelligent thing I’ve ever done.
“Nice to see you, Aimee. You look pretty.” Ryan’s voice is sugary-sweet and makes me want to yack.
Jake snorts, shaking his head, and his expression says that he’s clearly thinking how pathetic Ryan is.
“What do you want, Ryan?” I ask, stealing from Jake’s script. I know I should make more of an effort to be polite, bearing in mind Ryan is Scar’s son, but I’m losing patience as this is dragging on.
“Not in front of him,” Ryan says, looking at me but motioning towards Jake.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere, pal.” Jake shakes his head emphatically, refusing to move.
“Not in front of him. This is just between you and me, Aimee,” Ryan says in his slimyvoice, and an involuntary shiver passes through me. “You’re the smart one in this little relationship,” he adds, still focusing his attention on me. “So tell your boyfriend here not to push his luck.” With that, he lifts his t-shirt up slightly to show the handle of a knife that’s sticking out of his pants.
Jake moves as if to put himself between Ryan and me, but I squeeze his hand and shake my head as he looks at me. “It’s alright, Jake,” I assure him. “I won’t be long.” I sound much more confident than I feel.
“Finally, someone that sees sense,” Ryan says, looking up at the sky. “I’ll just be outside.” He sounds like he’s promising more than just a conversation, but I don’t allow myself to focus on that.
“I don’t like this,” Jake says, his face close to mine.
“Neither do I. But unless you want to make a guy with no social skills and a knife angry, I don’t see we have much of a choice,” I point out, trying to make light of the situation, but failing miserably.
“What can he have to say to you, anyway?” Jake asks, looking over to where Ryan has disappeared outside.
“Nothing important.” I shake my head dismissively. “He probably just wanted to come and freak us out to show he’s the big dick on campus. It’s a power play.”
“Be careful,” Jake says, holding my face between his hands and rubbing the pad of his thumb over my cheek so tenderly it makes me ache a little inside.
“I will be,” I tell him. “This won’t take long, I’m sure. Besides, I’m not sure how long Ryan’s going to be able to stand up for,” I note, referring to how high he seems to be.
Jake cracks a smile, but I know it’s not a sincere one. It’s just for my benefit, to show me that he’s alright and that he trusts me. Even in this situation he’s trying to make me feel better, and that makes me love him even more.
I walk out of the body shop, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness outside. The sun was setting, so there were only a few rays of dusk to light the way. Ryan is leaning against his bike expectantly. He’s parked so we’re just out of earshot, but we’re close enough for Jake to see us from the window of the studio. I wonder how intentional this had been and whether Ryan had planned for Jake to be able to see us while we were talking, just to infuriate him even more.
I walk towards Ryan slowly, trying to figure out what he could possibly have to say to me. Whatever it is, I sinc
erely doubt that it’s anything good. The realization of that sits heavily in my stomach like a dead weight and I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. Perhaps I should have just called his bluff when we were inside. Would he really have tried to goad Jake into a fight, knowing that Scar had agreed to a truce between us?
“What do you see in him, anyway?” Ryan asks without any preamble as I stop a few feet in front of him. I’m close enough to talk, but not for him to reach out and touch me.
I fold my arms, unconsciously duplicating Jake’s position inside. “Is that what you came here to talk about? What qualities I find attractive in Jake?” I ask, my tone impatient.
“Maybe, maybe not.” Ryan smiles widely, making his yellow teeth visible. I’m close enough to see how red and bloodshot his eyes are. I wonder if he’s had to get high to pluck up the courage to come here or if he’s so confident of getting what he wants that he doesn’t think he needs to be sharp.
Hearts of Winter (Bleeding Angels MC Book 2) Page 14
