All That Matters (Nightshade MC Book 3)

by Shannon Flagg

  “I'm not tired. I'm going to read some.” Meg cleared her throat. “And for what it's worth, I'm sorry that I pissed you off, Train.” She'd expected he would acknowledge her apology or the fact that she was leaving the bedroom, but he didn't.

  “Good night.” He didn't elaborate, and she couldn't say anything else because tears now would likely just launch them into another fight. Instead she went downstairs curled up on the couch and never even picked up her tablet.

  <#<#<#<#

  “Meg?” She woke to Leo's voice and him pulling on her arm. “Wake up. You fell asleep on the couch.”

  Meg blinked as she opened her eyes, looked around and realized he was right. She was on the couch. Her intention hadn't been to fall asleep, but apparently she had. She'd just wanted to give Train some time to cool off, and she'd been nearly sure that he'd come downstairs and get her. “Looks like I did, kiddo. What time is it?”

  “It's just after seven. I made us toast for breakfast.” Leo moved away from the couch. “I put coffee on too, it should be done.”

  “Thanks, Leo.” Meg's back screamed in protest as she got to her feet. The couch and position she'd passed out in hadn't been kind to her body. “Is Train up yet?”

  “He was gone when I got up,” Leo called over his shoulder. “I think that they were fixing a roof today, a big job. I can't wait to start being able to go and help. When do you think that'll be?”

  “I don't know, Leo. You'll have to ask him. Maybe tonight at dinner.” She folded the throw blanket and placed it on the back of the couch. “I'm going to grab a shower and then we can go, okay?” He nodded and she continued up the stairs.

  The bedroom was neat; she hadn't expected anything else. Train wasn't much of a slob. He even made the bed in the morning, nicer than she ever did, with crisp corners on the sheets. He'd even done it this morning. Meg was at a loss as to what she could do to fix this She'd apologized the night before, she'd meant it, so when he hadn't accepted or acknowledged it, she'd turned away because what else was she supposed to do?

  All she could do was get dressed to take Leo to school. By the time that she was done under the hot spray, she'd decided that she was going to call Ginger and not take the job. It was a bad neighborhood and one of the many stores in the area with bulletproof glass for the clerks to be behind.

  Meg was brushing her hair when she heard the doorbell ring. She fumbled the brush because no one came to the house this early. Train had keys. If that was Josh at the door. Fuck. “LEO! Don't open the door!”

  “It's okay, Meg. It's Monroe.” Leo took off the last lock and pulled the door open. “Hey, Monroe.”

  “Hey, bud. What's going on? You ready for Santa or what?”

  “It's not even Thanksgiving yet,” Leo giggled. “I made toast. You want some toast?”

  “Sure, that sounds good.” Monroe stuck his hands in his pockets. “I saw Train had the truck, figured you could use a ride to school.”

  “Really? Awesome. Oh, wait. Can I, Meg?”

  “Of course you can,” she answered. Leo loved all the Nightshade guys, and one of them taking him to school was like a special treat. Train was, of course, his favorite, but Meg knew that Monroe ran a close second to him. “Thanks, Monroe.”

  “You're welcome. Lead the way to the toast, Leo!”

  Meg followed them inside, poured herself coffee and let Leo put jam on toast for her. She fought the urge to go outside for a smoke by listening to Leo as he chattered on and on about the new game system he wanted for Christmas and the loft bed he wanted for his new room. Both things weren't cheap, so maybe calling and refusing the job was a stupid thing to do. She just didn't know.

  By the time that Leo left with Monroe, Meg had a full-blown migraine and wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. But she didn't. Instead, she called and turned down the job. Ginger called her a stupid bitch and hung up on her. She took pain pills for the headache and sent out another round of job applications without much hope.

  Meg made it to ten o'clock before she called Train. The phone rang several times and then she got his voice mail. She didn't leave a message.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was a gray day. The clouds were threatening snow, and Train was completely sick of the winter and there were still a few months left. It was even colder on the docks, because of the water, and all he wanted to do was get the cargo handled and get warm, but he knew that something wasn't right as soon as the crates came out. They were slightly larger than the original crates and way heavier. They were too heavy for the bootleg purses or movies that Anzaldi normally used to mask the massive quantities of currency.

  Buster knew it, too. His jaw was set in a hard line. “Open them, now.” Danny and Caesar stepped forward to do just that while Ace went about closing the door to the container.

  There were six crates total; each box held a washing machine. “Something tells me that Anzaldi isn't opening a laundromat.” Buster looked down into the box.

  “I bet my bank account they've got something special on the inside,” Ace chimed in. “We should open one up, see what it is.”

  “No way to do that without destroying the crate and letting Anzaldi know we checked,” Buster sighed. “We're going to close 'em up, deliver them, and at the drop, he'll show us what's in them just like he did with the purses.”

  “And if he doesn't feel like showing us?” Train knew the answer, but the question needed to be asked. He needed to know just what he should bring with him to the drop.

  “If he doesn't, this drop is going to be more interesting than most. He needs to be clear that the merchandise doesn't change, not without us being aware of it. We let Anzaldi do it, everyone else will start. And then we'll have another problem.” Buster's annoyance came across in his voice, and Train knew it was because of Info; the man had fallen off the grid yet again. The search for Cane was taking longer than any of them liked. Buster had even told Ace to go ahead and contact intelligence officers from other clubs to see if they could get a bead on him.

  “What if we don't like what's in the washers?” Bones asked. The man was usually pretty quiet, so when he did ask a question they all took notice. “I mean, we wouldn't work with Gagliardi because he's trafficking people. If it's something bad like that, do we just end our arrangement with Anzaldi?”

  Train thought that it was an excellent question. “We'd take it to the table, discuss our options and vote on it,” Buster answered. “Let's not put the cart before the horse. Right now, we need to get these off the docks and under cover until the meet.”

  “I got something!” Ace called out. “Bones just texted me. He found a house that Cane rented under his real name. It's in Riverdale. Bones is getting me all the info he can on the place. We can be there in less than four hours this time of day.”

  “I'll go,” Train offered. He figured that the ride would do him good, and the truth was, he didn't really want to go home. “We want to keep it low profile, right?”

  “Low profile is good. Alone is too risky.”

  “I'll go,” Ace offered. “Jillian's making meatloaf for dinner. You've all had Jillian's meatloaf, right?”

  “It's disgusting,” Train said, and everyone chuckled. It was basically what they were all thinking, anyway. Ace loved Jillian too much to tell her that her food sucked, so he suffered through it unless he could get out of it.

  “It is disgusting,” Ace confirmed. “I'll call her now, and then I'm good to go.”

  “Perfect,” Buster declared, and it was decided. Ace moved off to call Jillian. “Thanks for offering to do this.”

  “No problem.” Train took out his cigarettes, lit one and offered the pack to Buster, who took one. “I could use the ride.”

  “Everything alright?”

  “I just need to clear my head. Is that a problem?”

  “Of course it isn't, don't get defensive. Aren't you going to call Meg?”

  “Why?” Train asked, and then it hit him. “Because I'm not going
home tonight, right. Fuck. I'm shit at this whole relationship thing.”

  Buster chuckled at that. “Everyone feels like that one time or another. I know that I did. And I did my best to fuck it up with her at first, you remember that?”

  Train remembered Buster pulling back from Caroline, scared that she'd get caught up in Nightshade shit and get hurt. “I remember. You were a miserable prick at the time.”

  “Probably,” Buster admitted. “And that just proves my point. I pushed her away when I should have pulled her closer. I don't want to see you make the same kind of mistake.”

  “She pisses me off,” Train said after a pause. “And it pisses me off that she pisses me off.”

  Buster chuckled again and Train gave serious consideration to punching him right in the smirking face. It must have shown, because Buster held up his hands. “I'm not laughing at you, I'm not. You think that Caroline doesn't piss me off. She does, trust me. You know that Amelia pisses Danny off. Bones is always mad at his old lady.”

  “Jillian doesn't piss Ace off,” Train pointed out.

  “Jillian and Ace are freaks. Everyone knows that.” Buster smiled. “Seriously, being pissed is part of it. It's not a bad thing, leads to make-up sex. So, even if you're pissed, you still should call her and tell her that you're not coming home.”

  “Yeah. I will.” Train thought about what Buster said as he took out his phone. He dialed Meg's number, listened to it ring through to voice mail. He hated voice mail, so he hung up and called right back, again and again. A sudden urge to throw his phone rushed through him; he felt the lash of his temper and exhaled hard.

  It was three o'clock; she'd be on her way to get Leo from school. Shit. She'd be walking because he'd taken the fucking truck. Fuck, it was too cold for them to be walking. He was the reason that they were walking. He'd taken the truck without thinking that she'd need it, just like he'd been ready to ride off without even calling to tell her he wouldn't be home.

  “You ready to roll out, Train? You want to take your truck or mine?”

  “We can take yours. I need to drop mine off to Meg at the school.” Train sent a quick text telling her that was the plan. He was still pissed that she didn't answer but figured that she was pissed because he'd taken the truck. He should have gone with his gut instinct and just bought her a car.

  Ace followed him to the school. They missed the bell by a few minutes. Leo and Meg weren't there. Train followed the route they'd most likely have taken home and still didn't see them. He didn't start worrying until he got to the house and they weren't there. He didn't like to worry, it reminded him of his childhood, so he went with an emotion that was more familiar: anger. She hadn't so much as left a note to tell him where she was, on top of not answering her fucking phone. Train called her again, even though he knew somewhere inside that it was probably a bad idea.

  When her voice mail picked up again, he felt something in his head snap. “What the fuck is wrong with you that you don't answer your phone? You're not at the house or the school. What the fuck, Meg? This is what pisses me off. I don't have time for this shit.” Train clenched his fist hard enough to feel the phone crack as he ended the call.

  “You're a real sweet talker, aren't you?” Ace asked from behind him.

  “Mind your own business,” Train replied. He flipped up his middle finger. “Let's go.”

  “Aren't you forgetting something?” Ace looked amused. Train considered violence on a Brother for the second time in as many hours. “The keys, Train. Aren't you going to leave her the truck keys?”

  “Of course, I am.” Train had nearly forgotten about the keys. He didn't forget things. He paid attention to detail, it was his thing. He hung the keys on the hook near the back door, checked to make sure that it was locked, out of habit.

  “Not going to leave her a sweet little love note?”

  “Suck my dick,” Train suggested. “You ready to go or what?”

  “You got some snacks here?”

  “Snacks?”

  “Yeah, snacks. You know, tasty food that can be consumed while driving. So we don't have to stop. Maybe some sodas or something.”

  “We've got those juice pouch things. Chips and stuff for Leo's lunch, and there's probably energy drinks.”

  “Sweet. All we've got in our house is healthy shit, the closest I get to chips are pretzels.” Ace began to rummage through the cabinets. He piled items on the counter. “You got a bag?”

  “There's some plastic grocery store bags in the pantry. You can't miss them. Do me a favor, lock this door behind me. I need a smoke. And hurry up, we've got a way to go.”

  <#<#<#<#

  Riverdale wasn't a very affluent town. Most of the houses they'd seen were in pretty shit shape, some obviously abandoned. Train was reminded of home, though the blight had hit home much harder. As they followed the GPS directions to the address Bones had uncovered, the yards became larger and in better shape. “That's it,” Ace pulled over to the curb and pointed to a red brick house about half a block down the street. “No car or truck in the driveway.”

  “No way to sneak up without being seen. Doesn't look like anyone is home in the house next door.”

  “Across the street looks empty, and there's a for sale sign hanging in the house next door.” Ace turned off the engine and reached over to the glove compartment. He took out his gun. “What's our play?”

  Without knowing exactly what was going on inside of the house, any play would be risky. “Let's go knock on the door. See what happens.” Train took out his own gun, checked the clip and made sure that the safety was off. “If he's there, we do what needs to be done. Maybe we'll get lucky. Cane and the girl could be in there too. We could wrap this up with a bow.”

  “You ever see any of her movies?” Ace whistled his appreciation. “She is really bendy. Gagliardi is a son of a bitch, but he knows to make some smoking hot porn. Seriously, I found this one the other night, showed it to Jillian. It got her so hot she said that she'd consider a threesome.”

  “Seriously?” Train hadn't figured Jillian to be that freaky. Most likely she was just saying what she knew would get Ace hot with no intention of following through. It was obvious Ace hadn't figured that out.

  “Hand to God,” Ace answered. “I'm telling you, the video was that hot. I'll email you the link when I get home. I saved it into my favorites, it was that good.”

  “She want another guy or another chick?”

  “Another chick. I think she'll say yes.”

  “You hope she says yes. It's probably just the fantasy that turns her on.” Train watched Ace frown at the thought.

  “Even if that's the case, the fantasy turns her on enough that it works for me. Come on, let's get this over with so that we can get home and I can find out.”

  Train nodded. They might as well get it over with. The neighborhood was quiet, not even a barking dog. An unsettled feeling took root in Train's stomach, edging out the anger that he'd been stewing in since they left the house. Meg hadn't even left a fucking note. How was he supposed to know that she was okay? His phone hadn't rung, either, so she hadn't checked hers. What the fuck was she doing?

  He shoved down all those thoughts as they approached the house. The blinds were all closed, the curtains, too. From the outside, it didn't appear that anyone was home. The mail stacked up in the mailbox, mostly junk mail and sales circulars, indicated that no one had been there in a while. Ace raised his hand and knocked.

  No one answered. It was no surprise. There was an empty feeling about the house, like no one had been there in a while.“Let's go around the back, I don't think anyone is in there but I want to get inside,” Train suggested. If Cane and Info had used this address maybe they'd left a clue behind without realizing it. The back yard was neat and bare, no personalization anywhere.

  Ace took a black leather case out of his back pocket, a lockpicking kit, and got to work. In under a minute, the door was open. The scent of stale air and decomp rushed out at th
em. “Jesus Fuck!” Ace coughed. “Something is dead in there.”

  “Or someone.” Train took out his gun just in case. He followed Ace through the door into a small kitchen. There were dirty dishes piled in the sink, a trash can overflowed, which could account for the smell, but he doubted it. “I'll take upstairs.”

  “I've got down here.”

  Train moved through the house to the staircase quickly. There was a hallway on the second floor and three doors. The first was a bedroom, as generic as the new rooms at the clubhouse but nowhere near as clean. The second was another bedroom. Both were empty, but the smell of whatever was rotting was stronger than ever. The third door led to a bathroom and the source of a smell.

  There were two bodies, both wrapped in painter's plastic. “Fuck me.” The smell when they opened the plastic was going to be the worst thing in the world. “Ace!” He moved forward, examined the bags. One body was much smaller than the other. His money was on it being Cane and the girl, with Info fully off of the reservation.