Angel (Great Wolves Motorcycle Club Book 12)

by Jayne Blue

  “Okay then,” I said. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

  She gave me a little salute and went back to singing as she typed. I walked through the office. We had cubicles for the students. A conference room and mini law library off to the right and my office deep in the back. I had a stunning view of the alley and dumpster behind Wentworth’s Dry Cleaning.

  I unbuttoned my blazer and heaved my messenger bag on the chair beside my desk. I brought my own laptop and plugged it in as I started to go through yesterday’s messages. That took me the better part of the morning. I lost track of time. When Beverly buzzed back, it startled me about as much as a gunshot.

  “Sorry,” she said. She could see me through the glass. She had the phone to her ear and waved. I picked up the line. She could have easily shouted across the room, but Bev preferred the phones.

  “A Mrs. Endicott on line one,” she said. “She said it’s about your sister.”

  My heart raced. Of course it was. I waved at Bev and picked up the phone. Mrs. E started talking rapid-fire before I even said hello.

  “I wasn’t gonna call. She’d kill me if she knew. But ... I dunno. I had a feeling you’d want to know.”

  “What,” I said. “Is Bailey okay?”

  “Oh yeah. She perked right up about an hour after you left. She’s gone, honey. Some guy pulled up right in front of your unit. Good lookin’ but trouble in leather and boots, if ya know what I mean.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yeah. I do. Don’t tell me …”

  “Motorcycle,” she said. “Your little sis climbed right on. She was carrying a backpack and I didn’t take that as a good sign. Like, uh, maybe she’s planning on taking off for a while.”

  My heart sank. Motorcycle. “Mrs. E, was he …”

  “I don’t know that one,” she said. “Not a patched member. But, honey. He was wearing a cut. Kid’s a prospect with the Great Wolves. I really probably should have minded my own business. But she’s a good kid. So are you. I knew you’d want to know.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. E,” I said. “More than you know.”

  I hung up with her and grabbed my bag. I bit my lip and hesitated. Blood roared in my ears. She didn’t. She wouldn’t. Except I knew damn well what Bailey just did. Our mother’s DNA indeed. I pulled up a Google window on my phone and held my finger over the call link button. Then I set my cell phone on the desk, grabbed the office landline and dialed.

  It rang twice, then a deep voice, smooth as honey, answered.

  My heart flipped over. I couldn’t breathe. I opened my mouth to unleash the tirade I’d planned. But the three words he spoke just froze me in time.

  “Wolf Den. Angel.”

  I lost my nerve and hung up the phone.

  Chapter Three

  Angel

  “Hello?” I heard breathing on the other end of the phone. “The way this works is, I talk, then you talk. You need me to run that by you again or do you think you got it?” The line clicked dead. Mo gave me side-eye from behind the bar. We used a cell phone for all Wolf Den business now. I pulled it away from my ear. The caller ID came up “Green Bluff Family Law Project.”

  “The hell?”

  “Problem?” Mo asked. I shook my head.

  “Nah. Wrong number probably.”

  “Well, then you better get on in the back, birthday boy.”

  “My birthday’s over, Mo.”

  She laughed. “You still oughtta let me swat you on the ass thirty times. You deserve it.”

  I blew her a kiss. “Didn’t know you had it in you, woman.”

  Charlie walked behind the bar and voiced his protest in a grunt. He and Mo had been a thing for as long as anyone could remember. They never married on account of the fact Mo was still technically married to her first husband. He was a Devil’s Hawk M.C.O.G., one of our main rivals. The guy was in a nursing home now, but Mo still didn’t want to have to drag him into court to end things. Plus, her marital status was part of an ancient truce from before I was born. Whatever it was, the two of them seemed happy enough. Hell, they were the most stable couple any of us knew.

  “You coming?” I asked Charlie. He had his arms wrapped around Mo. He wore his wiry gray hair long in spirals that hung to his elbows. Mo rubbed his big pot belly and kissed his cheek.

  “Holding down the fort out here,” he said. “You can just tell me what I missed.”

  “Got it,” I said. The conference room door was open. Gunn walked in right behind me. He’d just gotten engaged to his girlfriend, Brenna. They were planning a Christmas wedding next year. Shocked the hell out of all of us. Other than me, I would have laid bets that Gunn Thompson would remain a bachelor the longest.

  Sly looked in a mood. He scratched his chin and waited as Gunn and I took our seats around the table. Other than Charlie, the only members missing were Dex and Marcus. They were off scouting new property for a warehouse Sly wanted to build.

  “I’ll make this quick,” Sly started. For the first time since I met him, Sly Cullinan was starting to look his age. I wasn’t even exactly sure what that was. Forty-five, maybe. Chicks described him as having a boyish face with deep dimples when he smiled. There was just a touch of silver in his sun-bleached blond hair. His leadership style was so much different than our old prez, and Sly’s uncle, Blackie Murphy. Sly treated us with respect. If we stepped out of line, there was hell to pay, but he was always fair. It had been Sly who’d pulled us out of the criminal shit we used to be in to make ends meet.

  “I’m hearing rumors that the new leadership in the Pagano family is coming apart at the seams.”

  The Paganos were one of the largest crime families on the west coast. Back in the day, the G.W.M.C. did most of their dirty work and provided their main muscle. Then it got ugly. They pinned some shit on Dex he didn’t do. He did thirteen years in federal prison over it. When he got out, we helped usher in that new leadership and took our revenge for what they’d done. Theirs was another uneasy truce we kept.

  “It was only a matter of time,” Big John said. “It’s been what, five, six years since they took out old George Pagano? Growing pains. That’s all. I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner.”

  Sly nodded. “Maybe. I hope that’s all it is. But the rumors I’m hearing are that the Diaz cartel from Mexico City is trying to make a move. Trying to absorb what’s left of the Pagano old guard. If that happens, things are going to get interesting around here. I just want everybody to watch their shit. Keep your ears open. You hear or see anything that smells of cartel involvement, you bring it to the table. We stay extra clean and extra sharp.”

  “Got it,” Marcus said. “But boss, you know we’ve been down this road before. We can handle it. The Diazes would be out of their fucking minds to try and move in from the south. The Saints in Texas would be the first to hear about it.”

  The Dark Saints M.C. held territory along the Gulf of Mexico. They were probably our biggest allies but they still operated as one percenters.

  “I’ve reached out to their prez,” Sly said. “We’re all on the same page. In the meantime, I can’t have sloppy shit happening like it did the other night. We need the probies in line too. Watch who they bring into the club. You feel me?”

  Sly set his laser focus on me. Shit. He was talking about Judd and that teenage chick he hooked up with.

  “In fairness,” Switch said, reading the same shit between the lines as I had. “Judd’s girl was over eighteen.”

  Sly slammed his fist against the table. “You serious with that shit? I’m not talking about where Judd or anyone else sticks their dick. That’s your business. But when he starts serving her booze from my bar then it is my business. That’s exactly the kind of heat we don’t need. That sister of hers is a lawyer. I can spot ’em a mile away. We don’t need to be making careless mistakes like that. Nobody new comes in the club for a while.”

  Of all the people at this table, Sly Cullinan knew how dangerous it was to bring new people into the
club’s inner circle. His wife Scarlett had been the greatest lesson on that score. She’d been hired to off him. They ... uh ... worked it all out. But he’d vowed never to make that mistake again or let any one of us.

  “I’ll talk to Judd,” I said. No sooner had I said it, I realized I had no fucking clue where he was. He should have been out in the bar already helping Mo and the girls get set up for tonight. It gave me a sick fucking feeling that he was up to no good.

  “Good,” Sly said. “And if he can’t get it through his head or junk that we need to lay low, you have him come see me.”

  I exchanged a look with Switch across the table. If it came to Judd having to talk to Sly on this, it likely meant him losing his status as a prospect. He’d be banned from the club for life. Switch lowered his eyes. He’d been the one to bring Judd on. He found him on the streets when he was just a kid, making his money scrapping. The kid was good with his hands and we trained him on small engines. He was one of our best mechanics now.

  “Everybody clear on where your heads need to be?”

  “You got it, boss,” Tiny said. The yesses went around the table. Sly rapped his knuckles on the table and dismissed church. I still held the Den phone in my pocket and a sinking feeling in my gut.

  I made my way upstairs to my room. I was saving to build a house but for now, felt content living here above the bar. A few of us still did and Mo kept rooms for many more. I sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed my tablet from the charger on the nightstand.

  I pulled up the caller ID on the phone. Green Bluff Family Law Project. Instinct drove me and I did a search on the tablet. It was one of those free legal clinics downtown. Wrong number maybe. But I didn’t think so. I clicked the “Meet our Staff” drop-down.

  My heart clenched. There she was. The woman from last night. Brandy or Bobbi ... what was it? No. Bailey’s sister. Her name was Maura Denning. The hot lawyer with the fire in her eyes. Her bio listed her as a graduate of Harrington College Law School just last year. She stared back at me with a confident smile, those dark eyes flashing. She was clean. Buttoned up. Smart. My mind flashed with the fantasy of bending her over the office desk behind her in the picture.

  I shook my head to clear it. Maura. Not a name you hear every day. Somehow, it fit her. It was a serious name for a serious chick.

  “Fuck,” I said out loud as the pieces slammed into place in my head. Nobody had yet seen Judd this morning. This chick, or someone from her clinic, had just called the club. It could just be a coincidence, but I knew in my gut it wasn’t.

  I ran my fingers through my hair and grabbed my cut from the bedpost. Time to go on a little field trip.

  “You headin’ out?” Jake asked as I got downstairs. “You want company?”

  On any other day, I would have said yes. I wasn’t entirely sure why I didn’t now. But something made me want to do this one alone. No, not something. Maura Denning. Shit. That right there should have told me why this was bad news.

  “I’m good,” I said. “I just gotta run into town for a little bit. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  Jake gave me a thumbs up then turned his attention back to Marcus and Big John in the back. We had a liquor shipment coming in. I passed Sly’s closed office door and hesitated. Maybe I should clue him into what I suspected about Judd. He’d shacked back up with the lawyer’s little trouble-making sister. But I just might be wrong and I was no fucking snitch.

  I climbed on my Harley and headed toward downtown Green Bluff. Mid-September, and it was just over ninety degrees. The dry, hot wind hit my face as I left the club behind. Green Bluff was mostly cattle ranches outside of town. The hazy outline of Mount Shasta loomed in the distance as I made my way around the winding roads.

  Downtown was small, quiet, clean. People in this town liked to claim credit for that but we knew better. It was the club who kept this place peaceful. They might look down on us, think we were thugs or scum, or worse. Deep down, those who lived here long enough knew this town would die without us.

  I parked a block away from the courthouse. I might have missed the family law clinic if I hadn’t known to look for it. The building was one of those no man’s lands of retail space before the county bought it. It had been a photo place, a bakery, a real estate office and maybe half a dozen other things throughout the years. I didn’t think any one business had lasted longer than two years there. That might not bode well for Maura Denning’s clinic.

  I waited, old instincts kicking in. I scanned the parking lot. A disheveled woman walked in with her grubby toddler in tow. He was screaming up a storm. She shushed him as they pushed through the doors.

  No metal detectors. If this place was connected to the courthouse, they sure weren’t supplying any real security. The front of it had glass doors and huge windows. I pulled up the website on my phone again.

  “We provide legal help for qualifying clients in all domestic actions before the Green Bluff County Court.”

  They listed a bunch of shit they handled, like restraining orders, divorces, custody disputes, and guardianships.

  “Fuck,” I whispered. That meant this chick was dealing with a more dangerous mix than if she were a public defender. One deadbeat dad with an anger management problem could brick his way into that clinic in about ten seconds.

  I waited a few more minutes, and the woman came out with her kid. She had paperwork in her hand and a relieved smile on her face.

  Then I saw Maura Denning again. She ushered the woman out and patted her on the back, reassuring her. She knelt down and put her arms around the little kid. He turned in my direction and I saw the bruises on his arms. The woman had them too. Slap marks across her face. My blood boiled and I gripped my handlebars.

  Fuck. One brick. One beer-guzzling asshole. Every protective instinct flared to life as I slid off my bike. Maura Denning straightened, catching my eye. Hers glinted and she said something quick to the woman that made her smile and leave.

  I crossed the street with confident strides and made my way to the front door of the Green Bluff Family Law Project and Maura Denning’s gorgeous little scowl.

  Chapter Four

  Maura

  The second Tonya Corley walked into my office, I knew my day was going from worse to disastrous. She tried to shield the bruises on her face with make-up, but she couldn’t hide the bruises on Cooper, her four-year-old. He had four blue-green stripes on his forearm. Marks like that could only come from someone bigger and much stronger grabbing him and not letting go.

  Since I’d opened the clinic doors six months ago, Tonya had been trying to get her husband’s visitation rights taken away. The problem was, every time I got the papers drawn up, he would promise to change and Tonya would lose her nerve. It was a vicious cycle and she needed the confidence, and knowledge, to break it. Little by little, I was working to empower her for her sake, and for Cooper’s.

  “I just think if you wrote Lee a letter, he might listen. I mean, if it came from you. With your stationery or whatever,” Tonya said.

  She didn’t have an appointment. We were supposed to meet next week to have her go over the motion we needed to file. Now here she was with fresh bruises. I fantasized about doing to Lee everything he’d done to Tonya and Cooper, and worse.

  “Tonya, it doesn’t work that way. Lee’s got his own lawyer. It’s not ethical for me to have any direct contact with him. The way we speak to Lee is through the courts.”

  “The judge then,” she said. “If the judge maybe wrote him a letter. Warned him.”

  Tonya had a huge heart. She believed in second chances to a fault. But it was no longer her safety at stake. I needed for her to truly understand that. If she couldn’t keep Cooper safe, the state may intervene.

  “It doesn’t work that way either. The court speaks through its orders, Tonya. We’ve been over this. You have to do what’s in Coop’s best interests. We can file the custody motion, but in the meantime, you can petition the court for a restraining order. Let me take
some photographs.”

  “No!” she said. Cooper hadn’t stopped crying since he came in. She grabbed her purse. Cooper clung to her side and Tonya started to edge toward the front door. Beverly shot her a stern look. I knew what she was thinking. Bev wanted to take that sweet little boy home with her. That was the hardest part about this job. I knew I couldn’t save the world. I could only try to tidy up one small corner of it.

  “Never mind,” Tonya said. “I’ll see you next week.”

  “Tonya, I need to know that you’re safe in the meantime. If you won’t go through with the restraining order …”

  “That’s just going to make him more angry. You don’t know Lee like I do.”

  The trouble was, I was pretty sure I knew him well enough. I couldn’t make Tonya stay. I couldn’t force her to file paperwork she wasn’t ready to file and I damn sure couldn’t file it without her consent.

  “Are you safe? Do you have someplace to stay?”

  She nodded. “My sister. Gertie’s going to let us stay with her for a couple of days.”

  “Can Lee find you there?”

  Tonya shook her head. I followed her into the lobby. “They don’t talk. Gertie just moved into a new house across town. Lee doesn’t have the address.”

  I would have preferred it if she’d gone into the safe house I’d suggested. There, she could get some counseling. But I supposed her sister’s place was better than nothing.

  “You keep my phone number on speed dial,” I said. “If Lee threatens you again, you call the sheriff. Do you promise? And I don’t want you going back to the house, Tonya. I mean it. Not even to pick up your stuff. You don’t meet with Lee alone. Ever. You have to trust me on this. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I get it, I get it.” Her posture changed. She smiled and came to me, throwing her arms wide. She nearly knocked me over with her embrace. I hugged her back and shot a wink to Cooper. He made an attempt at winking back but only succeeded in blinking both his eyes in unison. He was an adorable kid. He had thick, straight black hair that he’d recently cut on his own. He’d given himself jagged bangs. He threw me a gap-toothed smile and a thumbs up.