by KB Winters
“We both know that’s not true. So either you’re here as a paying customer or a crooked cop.”
“Bitch,” he grumbled and walked away to the sound of Tanya’s raucous laughter.
“God that was fun!” She turned to Stitch with a hungry glare. “Can you get me the footage from the moment the cops hit the property until about,” she looked down at her watch, “five seconds ago.”
“Sure thing, sweetness.”
She tried to look perturbed by his words but even Tanya wasn’t that good an actress. “You boys,” she said instead before turning to me. “Never a dull moment with the Reckless Bastards, eh?”
I raked a hand through my hair, angry and frustrated. Ready to fucking blow my lid. “Thanks Tanya, but this shit has got to stop. What can we do?”
She put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder and sighed. “We’ll figure it out. I’m working on it. I know you have your own sources, so just keep me in the loop and I’ll fix it. That’s what you pay me to do.”
Tanya was right. And, she was one of the most capable women I’d ever met. “Fine.”
“Great. I’ll talk to you in a day or so after I make sure Dodds’ boss knows what the little shit has been up to. Have a good evening everyone!” She rushed out damn near as quickly as she entered.
Now that the drama had passed, a few of the girls and their guests wandered back to the common area and I smiled at Katrina. “I guess your emergency protocol works.”
She looked up, pale and shaken, with a watery smile. “Yeah. Sorry about all this.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Katrina. Not one goddamn thing. This is on us, but I promise you I’m gonna fix it. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not, but thanks anyway, Cross.”
Thanks? She was thanking me for nearly getting her locked up. “One of the guys will make sure you get home okay.”
“Thank you. You’re a good man, Cross.”
I snorted at that but offered up a weak smile before I left, barely able to keep my eyes open. I was headed home, but as I passed a familiar intersection, the desire to turn right and then left in front of the little house with vibrant shutters and tons of plants all around all but killed me. I wanted to go see Moon so bad. But, she didn’t need this shit in her life, not as a single mom and definitely not with a sick fucking kid.
So once again I denied myself the pleasure of her kisses and aimed my bike toward home.
***
“Hey man, you got a minute?” Jag stood in the doorway of my office with a blank expression on his face and I hated like hell that I could no longer read him. He was quieter than normal and sullen all the goddamn time. Not that I blamed him. Hell, some might argue that I’d been nursing a broken heart for too damn long, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
“Yeah, come on in. What’s up?”
“I’ve been doing some digging,” he said as he walked in and closed the door behind him, as clear a sign as any that he had something serious to discuss. “I came across some campaign contributions that I’m pretty sure are going to Pacheco filtered through a bunch of shell corporations. I just can’t be sure yet.”
“But?” I’d known Jag long enough to know when he had more to say.
“But I’m pretty sure it’s coming from Roadkill. Why else wouldn’t they have handled Vigo immediately? No other MC would’ve let him live as long they did.”
Shit. Jag was right. “That has to be the missing piece. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out why the fuck they hadn’t killed him, yet, and why he’d stuck around Mayhem for so long. Now it’s all starting to make sense. In a fucked up kind of way.”
“Yeah. I’ll keep digging for connections between Pacheco and Roadkill and I’ll let you know what I come up with.” Jag was eager to leave my office and though I’d never admit that shit to anyone, it stung. I knew better than to take it personally, hell I’d shut damn near everyone out after Lauren and my baby died. But, Vivi wasn’t dead. She’d be back. Lauren wouldn’t.
“Thanks, Jag. When, or if this shit ever ends maybe you should take some time off and head east.”
He froze. “Not until she’s done with her time.” Jag looked at me like I was singlehandedly responsible for Vivi having to work for the government to pay off her crimes. And ours.
“I did what I had to, Jag.”
His black brows rose in surprise but that was the only indication of what was going on in his mind. “Never said you didn’t.”
“Jag,” I began, frustration and weariness in my voice.
“No, Cross. You’re my leader and my brother, but I don’t wanna hear this shit. You’re still grieving over your wife so don’t give me shit about Vivi, yeah?”
He was right. I nodded. “Okay. Thanks for the info. I appreciate it.”
“Just doing my job, man.” With another blank expression and another nod, Jag left me alone again with my thoughts, which seemed to switch between all the trouble the club had been having to the bohemian sexy mama who’d completely captivated me.
What could possibly be more fucking complicated?
Another knock sounded, and I bit back a groan. I’d never get through the actual work I had to do with these constant fucking interruptions. Probably means I should go to my real home. “Yeah?”
The door opened and Gunnar strode in with the same pissed off scowl he’d worn since he’d come back to Mayhem. He stalked in silently except for the loud thudding of his heavy feet, took a seat in front of me and scowled harder. “We need to talk.”
“I’m listening.” Gunnar was an ornery son of a bitch on the best of days but now with his estranged mom dead and his baby sister in his care, he was just a dick. My brother, but still a dick.
“There’s too much fucking shit going on around here Cross. Too goddamn much.”
“Yeah, tell me about it Gunnar, because I have no fucking clue,” I spat out. They didn’t know half of what I knew because if they did, my guys would burn this fucking town to the ground to go after these assholes. But we needed a more stealth approach, so I kept some of the bullshit from them.
Gunnar’s shoulders fell. “I know you know, Cross. You’re the best fucking Prez we’ve ever had, and I don’t doubt that shit. Not ever, so don’t fucking think it. But I have to think about Maisie and man, this shit hasn’t died down since I got back.” His eyes seared through me like a laser.
Shit, he was serious. If I was having any thoughts about whether or not my leadership had failed the Reckless Bastards, Gunnar had just confirmed them. “You sayin’ you want out?”
He sighed, and a ball of acid bloomed in my gut. “No, man. I don’t want out. I need a break. Out of fucking Vegas. At least for now. I can barely take care of Maisie and I can’t risk her getting hurt because of this shit with Roadkill and whoever the fuck else is fucking with us.”
That was some fucking relief. “You know I can’t just let you go. We have to vote on it.” I told him.
“I know. And I don’t want to leave the club. I just wanna get out of Mayhem for a while. You know how fucking hard it is to raise a kid?”
No, I never got the chance.
“I can imagine. But not until this current bout of bullshit is over. I need you here, Gun.”
A wide grin spread across his face and I knew I needed to get used to not having Gunnar around. He was as good as gone.
“Sounds good, Prez,” he replied. “And I’m here, a thousand fucking percent. But seriously, what the fuck happened while I was gone?”
That pulled a harsh, bitter laugh out of me. “What didn’t fucking happen? Roadkill kicked up a lot of shit and then Rocky had her crazy gangbanging ex after her, which meant us. You were here for the shit with Vivi, and I’m guessing this current shit show is a combination of Roadkill and something we can’t see yet.”
“Can’t Jag call up his girl to use her magic fingers and help us?”
I shook my head at him. “Sometimes you really are an insensitive prick.”
“What?”
“Dude, she’s working off our time. Don’t be an asshole.”
“So you won’t even consider asking if it means saving the rest of us? I’ll talk to Jag.”
“Your funeral. I wouldn’t suggest it, but I’ll make sure we have someone here to wire your jaw shut.”
“He can fucking try it,” Gunnar said with that crazy-eyed grin that told everyone else just what a crazy bastard he was. “Seriously, we can’t even ask?”
“Ask what, Gunnar? Do you even know where to start looking? Jag is doing his part and I’m doing mine. Focus on Maisie and doing your job.”
“Yes, sir,” he said tersely and stood, anger emanating from him but I wasn’t fazed.
“Don’t be an asshole, Gunnar. You’re not the only one with problems around here so maybe fucking act like it. In case you forgot, we almost lost Jana. Who is also raising kids. Oh, and she also has a bun in the oven.” That changed his demeanor real quick. “And Moon, the owner of that art store who has nothing to do with RB got her shit shot up. So you being a prick doesn’t even faze me.”
“You’re right, man. Shit, man. I’m just…” His words trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish them because I knew exactly what the fuck he refused to say.
Scared for his loved ones. “I know, Gunnar, me too.”
He nodded and dropped back down in the chair with a heavy exhale. “You? What the fuck for, from what the cops said, you toasted ol’ Vigo but good.” He laughed, harder and harder. “Crispy nuggets.”
My lips twitched but I refused to laugh. Vigo had it coming but that didn’t mean I had to like that shit. “That was a happy accident. What happened last night at Stetson wasn’t.”
“Didn’t realize you were back in the game, man.”
I snorted a laugh. “I’m not.” I told him all about Dodds fucking with us and putting Katrina in handcuffs.
Gunnar looked stunned, something that I’d rarely seen in the fifteen years I’d known him. “Seriously? A trumped-up ID charge? That’s fucked up.”
“Tanya handled it, but I need you to tell Jag to look into that motherfucker.”
“You still don’t want to contact Vivi? Seems to me this might have something to do with that former governor from Florida she outed in a most spectacular way.” His grin turned scandalous and he rubbed his hands together. “It was a thing of beauty, but something that might have some blowback.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right. Don’t say anything to Jag about this, yet. I need to think.” I was on my feet and headed toward the door, keys in hand. I needed to think. A long fucking ride was just what I needed to clear my head and organize my thoughts.
After an hour of driving around the desert, occasionally hopping on the freeway to feel the wind against my skin, I found myself at a place I hadn’t been in twenty-seven months.
Lauren’s grave.
Chapter Eighteen
Moon
Being back at the shop was nice but that probably had more to do with the fact that I was on the gallery side, where the building was still normal. Pristine. Untouched by violence or the blood of my friend.
Being over here allowed me to enjoy stress-free time during the few hours each week I accepted walk-ins from artists. If I didn’t set a specific day and time, I’d never get to interact with customers who stopped in for art supplies and classes, which I surprisingly enjoyed more than this part lately.
Not that I didn’t love the local artists who brought me everything from oils and watercolors to sculptures and even painted gourds. I loved them and their passion for art, but the shop drew all walks of life. Hobbyists, aspiring artists, part-timers and students all showed up in my shop. It gave me an outside connection to the world that I needed. Appreciated. Relished.
As the final walk-in hours drew to a close, the chimes above the door sounded and I looked up just as Jana entered with Max behind her, several packages under his big biceps. “Hey guys, what are you doing here?”
Jana stepped up to the wide wooden table with a smile on her face as she rubbed her growing belly. “I figured I wouldn’t make you track me down this year, since you saved my life and all.”
“While I’m pretty sure that was the doctors, I’m glad you came in of your own free will today. You were giving me a complex,” I said as a joke. I knew we were both thinking about Jana from a few years back, so shy and insecure, always hiding the scar on her face that was barely even visible. I hounded her for weeks to be in my art show until she’d relented.
“And now I’m here to make up for it. Hopefully.” With a nod to Max, who placed three large paper-covered frames on the table, Jana began to unwrap each of them. “Let me know what you think,” she said, her voice shaky and quiet, like the Jana I’d met years ago.
But she did take a step back, giving me space to examine the paintings laid out before me. They were beautiful but different from her usual landscapes and still lifes. The colors were vibrant and emotional, the subjects all human. Her theme was there too, motherhood or maybe the journey of motherhood. Either way it shone through each painting, evoking a visceral reaction of longing and anticipation.
“Okay, when I said let me know, I kind of meant right now.” Jana’s nervous laugh sounded behind me, but I was too transfixed by the brush strokes, the colors and the always rounded belly just barely in the frame. The mother was always there, always watching but never quite part of the picture.
“It’s beautiful,” I told her honestly. “All of them are thought-provoking. Stunning.” Turning to Jana, I couldn’t help but smile. “I know I don’t have a right to be, but I am so proud of you Jana.”
She blushed prettily and swiped an errant tear from her eye. “Thanks Moon, that means the world to me.”
“Does this mean they’re all for the show?” There was more hope than question in my voice and Max snickered, feigning innocence when Jana glared at him.
“Yes, it’s for the show, and I’m leaving it all up to you. But now, I have something for you.”
I was learning that the Reckless Bastards might be big tough guys, but the women they loved were stronger. Tougher. Max picked up another package. This one wasn’t framed, and it was even larger than her paintings for the showing. Slowly and carefully I unrolled the cream drawing paper, revealing a variation on gladiator sandals, long legs and a tie-dye bodice. By the time I reached the top there was no mistaking who it was. Me. “As an Amazonian superhero?”
“Exactly what I said,” Max added proudly.
“It’s not a superhero or an Amazonian, Moon, it’s you. Just you.” She pointed to the hair, long black waves falling of the shoulders and she’d somehow managed to make the streaks of silver shine like diamonds through the sketch.
“I didn’t even know you sketched.”
“I don’t, which makes it a double gift for you. You get my first piece in a new medium, well more like my fifty-first but that part can stay our little secret.”
“I’ll take it to my grave,” I promised. “Seriously Jana, I’m honored. You really are a tremendous artist.”
“You should see me work a spreadsheet,” she joked, still not completely comfortable with praise.
“I have.” Max and I both laughed at the instant flush of her pale ivory skin, barely colored at all from the hot desert sun. “Client, remember?”
“Pregnancy brain, remember?”
“It’s been a few years but I do recall you ordered twice as many brushes as I needed and not enough paper. You need omega-3’s.”
“See Max, I told you Moon would have an answer.” She leaned into his affectionate touch and I had to look away. So much love and admiration, respect between the happy couple that I felt a pang of longing for something I wasn’t even sure I wanted.
Men had proven a disappointment in the long run so when I happened upon one, I never kept them for very long. It was easier that way. For everyone. A buzzing sounded in the distance and it took me a moment to realize I still had
guests inside the gallery.
“Moon are you all right? Did you hear me?” Jana’s hand grabbed my shoulder and I looked down at her. “Your phone, it’s ringing. Has been for a while,” she added with worry in her voice.
“Sorry I must have zoned out for a minute. Excuse me?”
“Take your time.”
I hit redial on the unfamiliar number with a frown. “Hello, someone just called from this number?” I was prepared for an unsolicited sales call but I wasn’t prepared for the frightened woman on the other end of the line.
“Are you Moon Vanderbilt, Beau’s mother?”
Oh God, not Beau. “I am. What’s wrong? Please just tell me, no sugarcoating.”
“Beau is having an asthma attack, a pretty bad one. His inhaler isn’t working and the nurse is unfamiliar with the portable machine in his backpack.”
“He needs—”
“An ambulance is already on the way Ms. Vanderbilt. It’ll be much faster for you to meet him at the hospital.”
My heart raced like I’d just run a marathon and for several seconds, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything at all. “Oh. Okay. Thank you, Miss…?”
“Charles. Charlene Charles. Good luck with Beau.”
The call ended. I don’t know how long before I finally got my feet moving across the gallery and toward the door.
“Beau is having another attack,” I explained and tossed the shop keys to Max. “Lock up?”
“We got it. Go take care of my little man,” Jana insisted with a worried smile. “Call us if you need anything.”
With a brief nod, I pushed through the doors and quickly made the trip back home to pick up my purse and my car but I was brought up short after re-locking the front door. “Cross, what are you doing here?”
“What’s wrong?” Big strong hands landed on my shoulders, deep blue eyes looking at me like he was genuinely concerned.
“Nothing. I can’t talk, not now.” Keys fell from shaky hands but Cross was there picking them up. “Sorry. Thanks. I have to go…Beau.”
“What’s wrong with Beau?” His question was straightforward but there was tension in his voice like my little boy mattered to him.
