by Debra Kayn
He sighed. "You can trust Kurt."
She leaned back. "How do you know?"
Colby looked over her head, not meeting her gaze. "It's a small world. My uncle's a law enforcement officer in Pitnam, Washington, home of Bantorus MC. He called in a favor, and seeing how I've met Rain Brookshire, the president, and Kurt's dad, Slade, the vice president, along with Kurt, I know what I'm doing."
"Shit." She pushed away from him. "I can't believe you—she lowered her voice—how many people are making you bend over backward? First Meghoni Mine pushes the votes during the election for Sheriff, and now you're willing to let those bikers do whatever they want. Pretty soon, nobody will recognize our small town for all the corrupt people trying to run things."
"Hell no," Colby said. "I gave you my word that Silver Girls can continue to do business here. You've done a good job, honey. You've seen for yourself how many people respect what you've done here."
"Not all of them. Not yet, anyway." She pressed her hand to her forehead, thinking about how even a biker club thought she was doing something illegal. The rumors never ended. "This is such a mess."
Colby stepped toward her and laid his hands on her shoulders. "Sleep on everything tonight and you'll get a better grasp on why this is a good thing."
She glanced at him. "I don't believe you."
"Aw, girl, it'll be okay. Give it time." He rubbed her bare arms. "You'll see."
"If you're done molesting Risa out on the sidewalk, get your ass in here," a deep gravelly voice said.
Risa's body stiffened. Kurt's tone warned her not to push him too far. She was tired of him bullying his way into her private life. She leaned into Colby and whispered, "I'll give you two thousand dollars and all the lap dances you want from the other girls to get rid of him."
Colby's body shook in amusement, and he whispered back, "Trust me. You don't want to push Kurt or try to get rid of him."
She crossed her arms and watched Colby walk over and shake Kurt's hand before going inside the building. Kurt stayed outside and when they were alone, he said, "If the sheriff can't keep his hands and mouth off you, you'll find me or one of the other members escorting you around town."
"You...what?" She shook her head, baffled by his threat.
He tilted his head. "Until we get business settled between us, I won't allow any man to touch you, including the sheriff."
Unwilling to lose her patience out on the sidewalk, she walked away without looking back. Biker or not, Kurt was unbelievably rude, pushy, and delusional. No one controlled her, not even Nate. Her guardian let her have her freedom. He'd guided her to stand up for herself and be proud of the individual she'd become.
Kurt's presence in Federal left her doubting herself. She turned the corner onto Bank Street, and slowed her walk. She had to remember what she'd worked her whole life for, and not let one big, badass, sexy man confuse her.
The door at Country Mart swished opened. Risa waved at Sam, the manager over at the auto parts store, pushing a grocery cart out the door.
"Morning, Risa," Sam lifted the bill of his baseball cap. "Getting ready for tonight?"
"You know it," she said, smiling. "Are you coming?"
Sam laughed, his neck turning bright red. "I wouldn't miss it. Once Jerry gets off work at the mine, he's coming over and we're picking up Trevor."
"The girls will treat you right," she said.
A black sedan pulled into the parking lot. She glanced at the license plate and then grinned at Sam. "Looks like the tourists are starting to trickle in. In another month, Federal will be rolling with activity."
"It's exciting for a while, but once the leaves start falling, I'm ready to have our town back to ourselves." Sam chuckled and winked. "I better get the groceries home, and get to work. See you tonight."
She continued into the store. This early in the morning, she'd miss most of the local customers, which was how she liked it. She guarded her life, and being around too many people only made more assumptions rather than curb rumors. Small towns were a devil's trap, and she'd worked years to keep the talk down. Her hope that someday no one would speculate about her seemed impossible after this morning's meeting with Kurt.
She headed past the cash registers and climbed the employee stairs up to the offices. At the top landing, she knocked on the first door before letting herself in.
Doris, sitting at her desk, waved her inside. "Your order came in late last night."
"Thank goodness." Risa sat down in the closest chair. "I was afraid I'd have to drive over to Montana."
"Nope, four kegs for the men, and enough champagne to swim in." Doris's bottle-dyed red hair highlighted a round face with a contagious grin. "I'll have the stock boys deliver the supplies before their lunch break, because I'm taking the afternoon off to ride into Coeur d'Alene with Leo."
Risa picked at her thumbnail. She suspected the trip to the larger town wouldn't be something Doris would look forward to if she knew Kurt fired Leo. Luckily, Doris owning the store would make it possible for them to continue paying their bills when Kurt's money stopped.
Doris whistled. "Hey, you okay?"
She cleared her thoughts, embarrassed to keep any information away from Doris. "Oh, sure. I just have a lot to do today, so I better get going. I told Susan I'd pick up the girls' outfits for tonight before I head back to work."
"Always working means you're not having much fun. You're young...you need a good man, a solid provider, to take you away from work. Maybe one of those single miners tonight will sweep you away." Doris laughed. "If Leo were younger, I'd be worried about all you Silver Girls—best looking women in Federal. Lucky for me, a trip to the city seems to be Leo's highlight of the week."
"You're blessed, my friend." Risa knocked on the desk. "You know Leo only has eyes for you, because he knows what he has at home."
Doris flapped her hands out in front of her and laughed. "Go on..."
Risa waved over her shoulder, and skipped down the stairs and out into the sunshine. Her mood brighter, she hurried along the sidewalk, past the brewery, the café, and the antique store. She loved planning the parties, outfitting the girls, and making others happy. No matter what, nobody was going to spoil her mood for the rest of the day.
If she took Kurt out of the equation, she was doing all right. Each week a little easier, and soon, everyone would look at her with respect. She swung her arms, enjoying the sunshine and the solitude early in the morning.
Until she crossed the street.
A lone biker parked outside Susan's shop where Risa needed to pick up the outfits, stared right at her. She slowed, pressing her arms to her side, looking around for any other motorcycles. The biker wasn't Kurt, but the man who was all but having sex with Shari outside her door last night. Ink...the extremely tattooed biker.
She stared back at him as she walked to the shop's door, not letting him intimidate her. He gave nothing away—though he wore a skullcap with sunglasses on and she couldn't see much, except his mouth. His full lips remained closed and straight.
She paused at the door and faced him. "What?"
"Just watching your back." He lifted his shades up and left them hanging on his head. "Prez's orders."
She wanted to tell him he could leave and go back to wherever he came from, but he was only following his president's orders. If Kurt wanted to continue pushing her around, and trying to run her life, she'd show him exactly what he could do with his club ...and his motorcycle.
She had more right to come and go in Federal than he did. He was an outsider.
She turned around and went inside the shop. Tonight, she'd show Kurt exactly what she did at Silver Girls. Once the party was over, she'd also show him the door.
Chapter Five
Outside of Federal, Bantorus members stood inside the cyclone fence of the former abandoned mine building that'd now become the new headquarters for the Bantorus MC Federal charter. Kurt peered up at the three-story brick building, and tried to anticipate wha
t his MC brothers would think after getting a look inside for the first time. From the outside, things looked destitute.
A month ago, he'd taken a few days off and rode by himself to the new club and gave the okay for the final inspection, and paid the contractors. Hyped on success at finding, planning, and executing a new home for the charter within the last year, he'd neglected to check in on the Sterling Building. That was a fuck up on him. While the building in town was in live-in condition, he thought he had everything taken care of. He never expected Leo to screw him over by letting Risa continue paying rent.
Unless he cleared up the problems with Risa, his men were stuck rolling out their bags and sleeping on the floor in the bare rooms upstairs. He preferred to have them in town, closer to everything they'd need, and the added security of knowing they were there to warn him if trouble came knocking. Out here, outside city limits, they'd all have privacy and refuge of a contained piece of property they could use for manufacturing and selling guns.
Along with the clubhouse, there were several outbuildings in different levels of disarray peppering the foothills of the Bitterroot Mountains. He gazed off at the dilapidated brick building with a missing roof. He planned to use that site, bulldoze the building, and someday make his home, in that exact spot.
"This ain't Pitnam," Germ stated.
Ink body slammed Germ up against the chain-link fence surrounding the building. "We're making history, asshole, putting Bantorus on the map, and then we're drinking all night long as soon as you break us in. Stop your bitching, big man, and get your picks out."
"How about using the key and not thrashing the place for the first month?" Kurt tossed the key ring to Remmy. "Let's make it official and open the doors. Bantorus MC, Federal Charter is coming in."
His brothers whooped, punched, and shoved their way inside the compound. He rocked back on the heels of his boots, contentment filling him. He brought up the rear, wanting to let the men have their first look alone without him.
They'd have to make this their club. Without them on board, Bantorus MC wouldn't succeed at expanding their territory.
Together as MC brothers, they'd make everything work one way or another. When the Bantorus first riders showed up with their supplies and furniture, he'd celebrate with his old man. He'd finally done what he wanted since he turned fourteen years old and witnessed how a biker family healed his family from the devastating attack by Los Li.
Every fight worth the pain.
Every wall broken down.
Every goal attained.
Someday, when the timing was right, Bantorus would be strong enough, big enough, to go after the Mexican mafia's pony boys that threatened his family.
Inside the clubhouse, the men quieted. Kurt leaned against the wall and took in the area.
The bar in the right hand corner sported three shelves full of liquor on the back wall and a shiny oak counter, polished to a shine. On the left side of the room, a pool table surrounded by four couches gave the men something they were accustomed to entertaining themselves with during their downtime or if they went into lockdown. Clear in the back, down the hall, there were two large rooms, the meeting room, and one for supplies.
Best of all, the downstairs had a weight room and an open area big enough to house the pads and ring, so he could get back to fighting. His men could work off steam, and he could train the prospects to defend themselves.
Soon, the parts and supplies would arrive and the men would work in the warehouse in back.
There were enough militia groups in the area to keep them busy outfitting them with reconstructed AK-47's, legal in the state of Idaho, and illegal in Pitnam. While he approved of how Rain ran Bantorus, Kurt wanted more. It took two years to convince Rain and his dad to see the wisdom of spreading out among the inland Northwest and beefing up their power over the other clubs and gangs. With Los Li still a constant threat and recruiting more men every day, he could make Bantorus more commanding in Idaho and protect the whole territory.
He'd keep the club business legit—as he'd promised Rain. His men, skilled in the mechanical area of motorcycles could continue building, restoring, and selling to other bikers. However, their main source of income would be outfitting the militia groups and dealing weapons. He had his gun dealer license, backing from the sheriff, and between him and Remmy, enough experience piecing together bikes, they'd be up and running in no time.
"Holy fuckin' shit, prez." Ink tossed a bottle through the air.
Kurt leaned forward, stretching out, and caught the whiskey before it landed on the floor. "So, you're in?"
"Hell, yeah," Ink said, reaching for another bottle. "We're living sweet and in style. The Bantorus Federal HQ beats the Pitnam cabins by a mile."
"Except the women are in Pitnam." Remmy laid his hand on his chest. "We're lacking tits and ass, man."
Kurt laughed, twisting off the cap. He held the whiskey in the air. "I give the good people of Federal two days to let everyone know we're in town, and the chicks to start rattling the gate like they always do. The bitches can smell leather from two counties away."
"When the women come, I get the first one." Ink laid his hands on the top of the pool table and caressed the felted surface. "Right here, legs spread wide, and me boning her all night long. She'll be screaming my name."
Remmy slapped the back of Ink's head. "We go by rank, asshole. You were a squirt between your momma's legs when I put Bantorus colors on my vest. I get first pick."
His VP made the decision to come to Federal, because he'd never make president staying in Pitnam. Between Rain, Kurt's dad, Torque, Raul, and Jedman, the line of rank would never break to allow Remmy, at forty-eight years old, to be president of the originals.
When the vote went to table on who would run the Federal charter, Kurt won. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and drank. There were no favors pulled during the tally, and his dad stepped away from the table, taking a neutral vote, because Kurt requested it be that way. No one could come back and say he made it because of his old man.
He'd earned the right to head the table, honestly. Remmy came on as VP. Ink as Sergeant at Arms. They'd do all right.
He trusted Remmy, and his judgment. Ink and Germ were new recruits who were born into the lifestyle, rode nomad before finding Bantorus MC and settling down. The others, Sawyer, Muff, Tim, and Crain—who started out prospecting in Pitnam years ago, jumped on board when the option came to leave Washington state for Idaho. Each one of them eager, badass, and crazy enough to fit in. If they kept their hand off their dick and the women out of their heads for a few years, they'd solidify the club.
More bikers would come, and they'd go case by case on new recruits from the area as the news of their arrival leaked out. He was in no hurry. The more established the club became, the easier it would be on everyone.
While the other men checked out the rest of the building, Kurt took one more swig from the bottle and returned the drink to the bar. Only when he was alone did he allow himself to look around and selfishly accept that he'd done a hell of a job. The inside of the building was top notch. Wood floors, brick walls— mostly reconstructed to keep the authenticity of the age of the building in tack.
He'd spent almost everything in his savings on the old mining site and the Sterling Building. Since he was fifteen years old, eighty percent of his winnings from fighting went toward his dreams. He had his step mom, Taylor, to thank for teaching him how to save and grow his money. Rain taught by example on how to go from nothing to something. His dad continued to be a continual support, letting him know that whatever happened, Slade Ramchett, had his back.
Taylor never talked him out of his plans, no matter how ridiculous they were at a young age, even when others doubted his direction. He wanted security, a club, and the responsibility of being the president. Never would he put his happiness or those he loved in a vulnerable position. He'd keep everyone safe, and he'd have the power to go after Los Li and right the wrong that put the scar
on Taylor's face and the nightmare in her nights.
The nights of lying in bed, listening to his dad sooth Taylor's fears and promise not to ride off after Los Li in retaliation stuck with him. Nobody but his dad, Kurt, and Lee knew that the tragic attack on Taylor all those years ago kept her from having peace. Maybe here, away from Pitnam, he could see justice done that would allow Taylor to heal.
Taylor had stepped up and became his mom after his birth mother walked out of his life. Taylor had a choice. She didn't have to love him and Lee, but she elected to be a part of their lives. His birth mother, chose to whore herself out to Banjoey, the underground local loan shark in Pitnam. The only time Kurt saw his real mom was when they accidently ran into each other in Pitnam. Though her eyes flashed recognition, she never acknowledged him.
"Hey, prez," Ink said, walking into the room, his arms flung wide, and a shit eating grin on his face. "You out did yourself, man. The place is killer."
Sawyer, the youngest at twenty-three years old, hopped up on the counter. "So when do we start running guns?"
Just like that, everyone's attention went to Kurt. He joined in on their eagerness. This was a new adventure. A different and exciting way of making money that came with a new set of dangers. What they were proposing to do was legal. He had the license to buy and sell weapons, but the Feds were already suspicious of any activity Bantorus MC became involved in, and they hadn't even run their first shipment. That's what riding a Harley, wearing Bantorus colors, and pledging allegiance to the MC brought them.
"In a few days. One of the leaders from the local militia group will be coming by the club. Until then, I need to go straighten out business concerning the Sterling Building and get you guys a place to stay with actual beds." He grinned. "In the meantime, take it easy, drink, and play some pool. I'm going to town and talk to Risa. I'll have you guys situated by tomorrow."
Remmy grabbed his helmet. "I'll go with."
"Got your back, prez," Ink said, stepping forward.
Sawyer glanced at the others, smirked, thunked his black leather boot onto the floor, and joined Ink. "I'll ride out too."
