White Knuckles

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White Knuckles Page 12

by Autumn Jones Lake


  Investigator Brand stares at her for a few minutes, noticeably annoyed. She crosses her arms over her chest and scowls right back.

  Their standoff almost makes me want to laugh.

  “Fine.” He stuffs her card in his pocket and whips out a notepad. “Right now, incendiarism is suspected,” he says, not even bothering to fuck around.

  “Do you have any factual basis to support that theory?” Hope asks right away.

  “We’re still determining the origin and cause of the fire.” He points to a darkened path that used to be the hallway leading to the back door. “Traces of an accelerant. Probably gasoline. We still need to run tests.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter.

  “So, I need to ask you, Mr. Ramsey, who has access to the building at night?”

  “Me, my partner, Darnell Hall,” I say, using Whisper’s real name. “Jake Wallace, my other partner. My fiancée. A friend’s been helping me out. He was closing up while I was away the last few days.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Blake O’Callaghan.” He hesitates over spelling out the last name, which if I were in a different mood would make me laugh. That’s how I tagged Murphy with his road name.

  “Mr. Wallace says you’re the managing partner?”

  I’m not surprised he’s already spoken to Jake. “That’s right.”

  “Is the business insured?”

  The change in questions doesn’t throw me. I’m surprised it took him this long to ask. His way of trying to trip me up, I’m sure.

  “Of course it is.”

  He nods. “You mentioned you were away. Where?”

  “My fiancée and I went up to the Adirondacks for a few days.”

  “Why?”

  So I could finally fuck her ass. That’s crude, even for me. “Vacation.”

  “Can you give me the name of the hotel?”

  “We rented a cabin. I can give you the name of the owner.”

  “Later. Can anyone else verify where you were?”

  Sure. My big ass is probably on some pot-farmer’s security camera footage up in the Adirondacks.

  Thank fuck I took Trinity out. “I have receipts from a few places we went up there.”

  He nods, but it doesn’t seem to change his opinion of me. Why should it? As far as he’s concerned, even if I didn’t personally destroy my gym, it doesn’t mean I wasn’t in on it.

  “How are your personal finances?”

  “Fine.”

  “Have any credit card debt?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  My shoulders lift. Eventually, he might probe into my background and find out about my club affiliation. I’d rather say as little as possible now so he can’t accuse me of lying later. Still feels like I’m volunteering way too much information. I glance at Hope, but she’s impossible to read at the moment.

  “What’s the financial condition of the gym?”

  “Good.” I point to the buildings next door. “We’re planning to expand. I’m in negotiations to buy that property.”

  He seems surprised. He can fuck right off. I worked hard to make this place what it is…what it was.

  “Got financials or a profit and loss statement to back that up?”

  “My accountant does.” Meaning Teller, because he does the books for not only the MC, but Crystal Ball and Furious.

  Hope finally speaks up. “You understand he’s not obligated to turn those over to you?”

  “No. But if he doesn’t cooperate, I’ll get a subpoena.”

  She makes a good-luck-with-that face.

  “Ever filed an insurance claim before?”

  “For the business? No. Never had a reason to.”

  Investigator Brand looks less and less thrilled as we go through his lengthy checklist of questions. I’m sure he took in my ink, surly face, and bad attitude and assumed I’d lit the match.

  “No alarms went off, and it looks like the security system was tampered with. Did you have the video back-up off-site?”

  Fuck me. Z had been bugging me for a while to upgrade the system so the video would be stored somewhere else. I didn’t see the point.

  Actually, that’s not true. Whisper insisted it wasn’t necessary. At the time, I thought it was because he didn’t want me to know how many of our female clients he nailed after hours. Now, I wonder if he was motivated by something else.

  “No. My security guy suggested it, but we hadn’t gotten around to upgrading yet. The hard drive was in my office.”

  Brand glances at the rubble. “We’ll see if we can salvage something.” He doesn’t sound convinced it’s possible. Maybe that’s for my benefit—his way of tricking me into doing something to implicate myself. This fucker’s hard to read. Not the average donut-muncher the Empire Sheriff’s department usually produces.

  “Who informed you of the fire?”

  “Blake. He called me this morning. My fiancée and I left right away.”

  “Who closed last night?”

  “I assume it was Blake, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet.”

  He pins me with a stern look. “You just said he called you about the fire.”

  “Yes,” I answer with exaggerated patience. “But it was a quick call. We didn’t discuss anything else.”

  Hope clears her throat. “Are you planning to jump on every little thing, Investigator Brand? Clearly my friend is trying to cooperate.”

  He shuffles through his notes, ignoring Hope, then glances around the parking lot. “He here now?”

  I scan the area and wave Murphy over. His gaze darts between Hope and me as he approaches. “What’s up?”

  Investigator Brand introduces himself and gets right down to business. “Who closed last night?”

  Murphy glances at Hope before answering, something Brand doesn’t miss. “She your lawyer, too?” Each word comes out laced with sarcasm.

  “Blake’s also a friend of mine,” she says.

  Brand rolls his eyes. Hope nods at Murphy.

  Murphy sighs before answering. Only because I know him so well do I sense something’s off with him. “I was supposed to be here until closing.”

  “And?” Brand prompts.

  “Things were slow. Not unusual for a Saturday night. Place was clean. Twitch said he’d finish mopping and set the alarm on his way out.” He drops his head, staring at his feet. “I left at eight forty-five.”

  Obviously Murphy thinks I’m gonna be pissed or something. But I can’t figure how another fifteen minutes would have made much of a difference. Even worse, he might be the body on the floor if he had stuck around.

  “You try to reach this Twitch yet?” Brand asks.

  Murphy waves his cell phone at him. “Yeah. First call I made after I called him,” he says tilting his head my way. “Been calling Twitch all morning but just keep getting his voicemail.”

  Brand glances back at the building briefly before he asks for more information from Murphy. Once he’s satisfied, he dismisses him and focuses on me again. “Mr. Wallace is the one who was on the scene first after the fire department got things under control. Does that sound right?”

  “Makes sense. Jake would have been the one to open today.”

  “911 call came in around five a.m.”

  I glance around at the busy road. “Do you know who called it in?”

  “Unidentified male.”

  “Great. Big help,” I grumble.

  He cocks his head. “Do you have any enemies, Mr. Ramsey?”

  “Probably.”

  “Care to name any?”

  Hope touches my arm briefly. “What’s the point? He can’t make wild guesses.”

  Brand answers without taking his eyes off me. “Sure he can, counselor.”

  “Take your pick.” My shoulders lift. “Lotta other gyms in the area.”

  I leave it at that.

  He tilts his head. “Are any in the business of burning down the
competition?”

  The question sounds sarcastic, but his stern expression doesn’t change.

  “Not that I know of,” I answer with my own caustic tone.

  We stand there staring each other down for a few minutes. Hope must be concerned we’re about to throw some punches.

  “Is that all, Mr. Brand?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” he answers slowly. “That’s it for now. When we ID the body, I’ll have more questions for you. Stay local.”

  “Trust me, I ain’t going anywhere.”

  I’m marrying Trinity in six days no matter what.

  I want to do the only thing I know how to do in this sort of situation—care for Wyatt. I want to be by his side. Help him sort through the rubble. Make the phone calls I know need to be made. Smother him with affection to counteract the devastation of losing something so important.

  But he won’t let me.

  A few years ago, being shut out this way would have driven me to some sort of behavior I’d regret later. Now, I understand Wyatt—and myself—so much more. Even though I’m hurt, I understand why he needed me to leave.

  “Don’t take it personally, Trin,” Z says, starting up his truck.

  “I’m not.”

  He glances over with a skeptical twist to his mouth.

  “Fine. Yes, my feelings are…hurt. But this isn’t about me.”

  Once we’re on the highway headed home, he glances over. “You’re a good girl, Trin. When I go back, I’m gonna kick his ass for snapping at you.”

  “Don’t you dare. He’s got enough to worry about.”

  “He’s probably already pissed he let you go.”

  “Maybe.” I glance down and brush dust of my jeans. “I’ll take care of him later.”

  “I’m sure you will,” he says with a suggestive smirk.

  “Not like that, you perv.” I smack his arm and he laughs, which lightens my mood a lot. “Thanks for making me laugh, Z,” I say quietly after we both settle down.

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  We don’t talk a lot more. What’s there to say?

  When we get to the clubhouse, I do a good job of avoiding everyone and head straight to our room.

  A few hours later, there’s a tap at the door that takes my attention away from what I’m working on. I don’t have a chance to ask who it is before Wyatt pushes the door open and steps in.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Why’re you knocking on your own door?”

  He lifts his shoulders, keeping his gaze on the floor.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, hurrying over to him.

  He gives the barest shake of his head before I slip my arms around him and squeeze. It takes a few seconds before he returns the embrace, burrowing his face against my neck. “I missed you all day. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  There’s nothing to say, so instead I hold him tighter.

  “You still gonna marry me?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

  “What?” I pull back, searching his face for something I can’t quite name. When he meets my eyes, all I see is love and a rare glimpse of vulnerability. “Are you serious?”

  We’ve known each other a long time. It’s not as if I don’t know how gruff my man can be when pushed to his limits. “A few harsh words when something horrible has happened won’t make me give up on you. Sorry, you can’t shake me off that easily, wrecking ball.”

  He lets out a dark chuckle, so I continue. “We’re going to have so many ups and downs in our life, Wyatt. I’ll be right by your side for every single one.”

  “This is more than a down, Trin. I had a fuck-lot tied up in the gym. It’s going to take months to sort out. Not to mention I now have an arson investigator breathing down my neck.”

  “We’ll get through it.”

  “I’m sorry I was a dick.”

  A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. My man’s just lost the business it took him years to build. He won’t come out and say it, but he’s worried I’m mad at him over a few sharp words.

  I run the back of my hand over his cheek, and he leans into my touch. “I love you. We’re fine.” I don’t offer any ridiculous platitudes like “We’ll rebuild bigger and better than ever!” because I honestly don’t know what he wants to do yet.

  One thought keeps repeating in my head. I need him to know what was in my heart earlier. “All I wanted to do was help you today.”

  “I know, angel.”

  “You’re always there for me. You do so much for me, I—”

  “Hey,” he says, grabbing my hands. “You do more for me than you realize.” He hesitates and glances away. “I needed you someplace safe. That’s all.”

  “Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something?”

  “No. I’m exhausted. I wanna grab a shower and get some sleep. Rock wants us all to have a sit-down in the morning.” He shakes his head. “I need to be back early in the morning to meet with the insurance adjuster.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” I ask quietly.

  “No.”

  I reel back, willing myself not to be hurt. He hurries up to finish his answer. “Not because I don’t want you there. Or because I don’t need you.” He pulls me to him and rests his chin on my head. “I’m fuckin’ worried, Trin.”

  I stop and consider his words. “I have some wedding errands to run.”

  “I don’t want you going out alone.”

  “Hope’s going with me.”

  He shakes his head. “No. I’ll have one of the guys take you.”

  “Oh, great. They’ll love that.”

  “You know every single brother would take a bullet for you two. They’re not going to mind. Anything else?”

  “Probably, but I can’t think of it right now.” We stand there in the middle of our room holding each other for a few quiet minutes. “I’m here, Wyatt. Let me help. What can I do for you?”

  He kisses the top of my head. “Tell me we’ll look back on this years from now and laugh.”

  I don’t see that happening any time soon. “I’m sure we will. Maybe not tomorrow…”

  His rumbling laughter eases the worry from my chest.

  “No, probably not.”

  I pat his chest and force a smile. “Go take your shower.”

  After giving him a few minutes alone, I wander into the bathroom to set a towel and a pair of shorts down for him. A few seconds later, he sticks his head out, glancing at the things I laid out.

  “Thanks,” he says.

  Edgy and restless, I drift back into our room. Instinct says Wyatt needs something more from me.

  While he loves me in sexy, lacy stuff, my man’s usually more turned on by the simple things. With that in mind, I slip into a white tank top that’s so thin, it’s basically see through and a pair of tiny shorts I like to sleep in—when he doesn’t rip them off me.

  Kneeling in the center of the bed, I face the bathroom door and wait.

  A few seconds later, my patience pays off. Wyatt emerges from the bathroom, a towel around his hips and water dripping from his hair.

  “Wyatt?”

  He tips his head up, his gaze traveling over my body before locking on my eyes. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

  “Will you take care of me?”

  The tension in his shoulders melts. One corner of his mouth lifts, and the hard lines on his forehead soften. “What do you need?”

  I hold my hands out to him. “You.”

  In a few steps, he’s in front of me. He takes my hands, pulling me up against his body. “I’m here.”

  I run my hands down her sides, stopping to cup her hips. “You’re all mine.”

  She tucks her bottom lip under her teeth and stares up at me. “Yes.”

  For the first time since I got the call about the gym, the roaring in my ears fades. It’s just us.

  I cup her neck and lean down to press my mouth against hers, kissing her like a starving man. I groan a
t the taste of her. So good.

  My hands move to her waist, brushing against the hem of her tank top. I slide it up, exposing her breasts to my hungry eyes. Her nipples are hard points against my palms, and her head falls back as my thumb circles them.

  “So pretty.”

  Her breath rushes out when I suck one into my mouth and push her back against the bed. “I want to lick you, then fuck you.”

  She shudders. “Wyatt.”

  “Love when you wear this,” I mumble as I strip off her top. “Can see your nipples through it. So fucking hot.” I kiss my way down her body and tease my fingers against the waistband of her shorts. “Love these, too. How they barely fit your sweet little ass.”

  I slide those down her legs and toss them on the floor. “You won’t be needing them tonight.”

  My hands are everywhere. Touching and exploring all my favorite spots. I hook my arms under her knees and hold her open the way I want. I take a long, slow lick from her pussy to her clit. Teasing her with my tongue until her eyes roll back in her head and her toes curl.

  “Wyatt.” She gasps and scrapes her fingernails through my hair.

  “No. Hands up. Touch the headboard.” She doesn’t even hesitate to stretch out the way I like. “Mine,” I growl the word against her pussy, but I know she hears me because she answers.

  “Yes.”

  Her body twists as I hold her open to lick and suck her slick flesh.

  I glance up at her. “You knew this is what I needed, didn’t you, angel?”

  After one final lick, I make my way up her body. Stop to kiss her stomach and right between her breasts. I kiss her mouth and she groans, brushing her tongue against mine. My lips travel over her jaw, to her neck, and then suck on her earlobe. “You knew I needed to bury my face in your sweet cunt and forget about everything, didn’t you?”

  She lifts her hips and her eyes pop open. “Yes.”

  I kneel up and stroke my cock a few times so she can see what she does to me. “You want this?”

 

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