by Zoey Parker
When I called Kenny in to meet with Katie, he was practically drooling. I laughed. Kenny was my age, but he acted like a big kid. I could tell he was thrilled to have Katie in his company, like she was some movie starlet or something.
“Y’all be good now,” I said with a wink. Kenny burst out laughing and Katie shot me a dirty look. I shrugged. “I’ll see you later,” I said curtly, strutting outside and climbing on top of my hog.
My chest locked up as soon as I hit the road. It had been months since Matthias died, but I hadn’t actually been over to his house to check things out. The idea had been painful, and there had been a lot of club drama to sort through. When he first died, everyone wanted some time to themselves. The club wasn’t active for a month or two. He’d been the leader for a long time, and I didn’t think most people would wanna stick around in his absence. But, luckily, I’d been wrong.
It felt good to be out in the open air. I loved the clubhouse, but after a while, I’d started feeling kind of cooped up. Especially once Katie got so damn emotional. I wasn’t used to being around women who cried all the time, and I hoped she wouldn’t be like that after everything was said and done. It was one thing to be scared, it was another to be dramatic.
I shivered. Margot always used to say I was being dramatic, that I was doing something wrong, that I needed to “take a chill pill and relax.” It was one of her favorite things to say. She was one of those women who couldn’t stand the idea of letting things get out of hand, one of those women who had to feel like she was taking charge at all times. It got tiring at times, but I liked how she seemed to lack the natural penchant for drama that a lot of women had instinctively.
Matthias had lived in a big, ramshackle house outside of Marquette. The MC brought in a decent amount of cash flow, but lately things had been dry—that was why Matthias had started the drugs up again. I’d hated it at the time, and I hated it now; if it hadn’t been for the drugs, Matthias might still be alive.
His house looked normal in the sun, almost like a family still lived there. The yard was trimmed—one of the guys in the club came by every other week—but the flowers had died, and I could tell the driveway needed some patching.
“We’re gonna have to put you up for sale,” I said under my breath as I parked my bike in the driveway and climbed off. “After all, someone’s gonna wanna buy you and maybe put a family in you again.”
It felt weird, knowing I was digging through Katie’s childhood home. Part of me wanted to call her and ask her if there were any secret hiding places. But then I realized it would probably frighten her if she knew where I was. Nah, I decided. Better to just keep her in the dark for now. Better not to say anything.
I let myself in with the key the club shared and looked around. Despite a fine layer of dust on everything, it looked pretty normal inside. It definitely didn’t look like the scene of a crime. I swallowed hard. Matthias had been in the middle of a deal that had gone south. When he died, he was shot with a pistol. It was a pistol familiar to the MC, a pistol that every member got when he patched in. The bullet had been lodged in his brain; whoever had shot him had left him bleeding and then escaped. I hadn’t known until the next morning when I’d come over for a routine meeting and found him dead.
I shivered. The house seemed chilly. Even though it was a warm spring day outside, there was still a weird atmosphere inside. The house knows, I thought to myself. The house knows what happened here.
Brushing off the creepy feeling, I climbed the stairs one by one. My boots creaked on the wooden steps and the sounds echoed off the walls. The interior hadn’t been painted in a long time; it was clear the guys would have to come by and do some touchups before it went on the market. But, aside from that, everything looked pretty good. The furniture was draped in sheets, and the scene of the crime had been cleared up.
Matthias had been shot in his bedroom. I shuddered, trying to visualize the scene. The blood had been cleaned up off the hardwood floor, but the memory of seeing his prone body wouldn’t ever leave my mind. It was an image I was glad Katie hadn’t seen, an image that haunted my nightmares.
“Old man, what kind of secrets were you hiding?” I mumbled as I dug through the bureau. Not much was left; after Matthias had been shot, the MC had sent a cleaning crew over to the house. They’d boxed up most of his things for disposal, including his clothes, which went off to the local Salvation Army. Now the bureau was empty, save for a couple of old photographs. I picked them up, expecting to see baby photos of Katie. But instead, they were all club members: Matthias with my boys, Matthias on his bike, Matthias with his arm around a couple of strippers.
Laughing, I shook my head. The men in The Silent Havoc were all the same. Give us a bottle and a warm girl to spend the night with, give us an open road and a black hog – that was all we needed to be happy.
Except, not quite, a small voice said from the back of my head. Not quite. You thought you needed something else for a long time.
“Fuck off,” I mumbled. I didn’t feel like thinking of Margot again, not now, not ever. She was dead and gone, and there was no use dwelling on the past.
It was true that while we were together, I’d thought about leaving the MC. Margot wanted to challenge me, to inspire me to do new things. She came in because of the guys, but once we were together, it was like she didn’t approve of my staying in the club. I remembered fighting with her over it all the time. I told her I had goals in life and, in order to reach those goals, I had to stay in the club.
Margot didn’t share my opinion.
Now, I wondered if there had been anything behind her push to get me away from the guys. Maybe she was like other women, worried about infidelity during the good years and money during the bad ones.
Reaching forward, I yanked open the drawer from Matthias’s nightstand. It was empty, but I heard something rustle when it was open.
“What was that?” My voice echoed in the empty room. Getting to my feet, I yanked the nightstand to the side and peeked behind. My gaze landed on a piece of paper that was awkwardly folded into thirds. It looked like Matthias had maybe stuck it inside the nightstand, then slammed the door and forgotten about it, sending it flying to the back of the drawer.
I bit my lip as I unfolded the paper. When I’d come here, I wasn’t sure what I’d been looking for. But the atmosphere around me seemed to have changed instantly, from relatively friendly to ominous.
“Call off the deal or you’ll face the consequences.”
I shuddered after I’d read it. It was straight and to the point, all right. I wondered who had been blackmailing Matthias.
I dropped the paper onto the bed and gazed around, looking for something made out of plastic. Finally, I spotted a tiny wastebasket that hadn’t yet been emptied. I dumped the trash on the floor, then folded the trash bag over itself and picked up the piece of paper. I didn’t know who had written this—the handwriting was stark and unfamiliar—but maybe there were prints or something I could check. Maybe some DNA or some other science shit, maybe some kind of technology that would lead me straight to the killer.
Anything was possible.
I left Matthias’s house whistling, feeling better than I had in ages. I’d never seen this note before, and hopefully with a little more digging, I’d be able to find out who wrote it. After all, I was only looking to clear my name and find the killer. It couldn’t be that hard, right?
Part of me was almost nervous to go home. I wanted to see Katie again, but she’d locked herself in one of the bedrooms. I lived in a ranch house on the other side of Marquette from Matthias’s place. It was a house I’d bought when Margot and I were engaged, and I didn’t have the heart to sell it. It was a real home, the kind of home she said she wanted to raise kids in. While I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a parent or not, the idea of Margot wanting to bear my children had always made me feel proud, warm, and fuzzy. I had no idea whether or not I’d be a good father, but it had made me happy to picture coming ho
me to my gorgeous wife and a baby or two. Margot had always been honest with me about what she’d wanted. I only hoped Katie would do the same.
“Kate?” I knocked on the closed door. “Feel like getting some food?”
There was a pause. “Do you cook?”
I burst out laughing. “Uh, yeah, if you call ordering a pizza cooking,” I said playfully.
Silence.
“No, thanks,” she called back after a moment. “I’m really tired, Jace. I think I’m just going to lie down.”
I swallowed hard. “Nervous about tomorrow?”
There was no answer.
“Katie?”
“I’m fine,” she called back. The exasperation in her voice was clear. “I’ll be fine, I mean.”
“Suit yourself,” I called back. “I’m going to order an extra-large, with pepperoni and mushroom. You can help yourself to the leftovers if you want.”
There was no reply. A small surge of anger rushed through my body. Part of me was tempted to break down the door and drag Katie out into the living room. And then what? I thought. Make her eat pizza? Take her clothes off? Shaking my head, I laughed. Women were crazy, all right. And now I was starting to think, maybe, I’d gotten stuck with the craziest one of all.
Chapter 7
Katharina
I barely slept that night. Kenny had taken me to Jace’s place—it was cleaner and nicer than I’d expected—and I’d settled into a bedroom on one side of the house. Even though I was dying to know what he got up to when no one else was around, I didn’t snoop.
The room I picked had a queen-sized bed and an empty bureau. When Kenny took me by the apartment, I was surprised to realize I didn’t actually care about most of my stuff. I didn’t really want to take it with me. The memories of the clothes I had reminded me of Troy, and I wanted to get rid of them.
When I called Becky and told her what I was doing, she’d flipped out. “You can’t be serious, Kate,” she said, snapping her gum. “I mean, you barely know this guy!”
I winced. I hadn’t even told her about the marriage plan yet, just about the “temporary” living arrangement. Even though I wasn’t sure what would happen in the future, I doubted Jace would let me move out of his house. If there were any chance Troy was still out looking for me, I had a feeling I wouldn’t even want to leave. After all, I’d turned to Jace for protection; I didn’t even think I’d had any other options.
“You can’t do this,” Becky whined. “I mean, he could be a psycho!”
“I have to do this,” I argued, already feeling worn down from Jace’s arguments. I felt irritated with Becky, too. She knew how badly Troy had treated me and, yet, she still never insisted I stay with her or anything like that. “I don’t have any other choice.”
“Katharina, that makes you sound like a hooker,” Becky snapped.
“Whatever,” I said. “I have to go.”
Kenny had been a perfect gentleman the whole time, even if I’d caught him checking out my ass every time I bent over. He carried my bags into the room I chose and then parked himself in the living room, in front of the television. Before Jace got home, I went to the kitchen and made myself a snack—a glass of water and a ham sandwich.
Then I went back to “my” room and tried to sleep.
By the time Jace got home, I was in bed, halfway there. He knocked on my door and asked if I wanted pizza. I should have given him some snappy comeback about how no self-respecting woman would eat pizza the day before her wedding, but I winced when I remembered no self-respecting woman would marry someone she didn’t love.
That whole night I had nightmares about Troy. They were awful. Troy breaking into Jace’s house and kidnapping me, Troy ruining our wedding, Troy showing up with a gun and putting a bullet in Jace’s skull.
The last one kept me awake for a long time. It made me think of how my dad died. He was found with a bullet in the brain. Someone had just shot him and left him to die like an animal.
The sun was coming up by the time I fell asleep again.
In the morning, someone knocked on my door. I tensed, thinking it was Jace, but a few seconds later, I heard a soft voice, lightly accented in Spanish.
“Hello, Miss Katharina?”
“It’s Katie,” I called back through the door. “What is it?”
“I am here to help you get ready, ma’am.”
Puzzled, I got to my feet and opened the door. Standing in front of me was an aging Hispanic woman, wearing a crisp white uniform and orthopedic shoes. She had a friendly smile and she was carrying some bags.
“Mr. Jace thought you might want to wear one of these,” she said softly as she slipped the bags into my hands.
I frowned. “What are these?”
The woman smiled at me. “I don’t know, ma’am,” she said softly. “Would you like some breakfast? Toast? Eggs? A croissant?”
I wasn’t hungry, but my stomach rumbled. The woman must have taken that as a yes, because when I looked up, she’d completely disappeared.
Frowning, I put the bags down on the bed and opened them up. There, in front of me, I saw a couple of white and cream dresses. They were all informal, and looked like they might fit me if I sucked in my stomach and had someone else zip me up. But I didn’t like the idea of wearing something borrowed; after all, I didn’t exactly know where they came from. Maybe Jace had a stash of female clothes in his closet? I giggled loudly. I knew I was nervous, but this was a little too much.
The maid returned with a breakfast tray just as I was getting dressed. I chose an old outfit of mine, something Troy had hated. It wasn’t the infamous red dress, but it was close: a navy lace dress with a pencil skirt and a bodice that nipped in my waist and made my breasts look bigger than they really were. It was one of the only things I owned that gave me actual cleavage. If I was being completely honest, part of me wanted to look really nice for Jace. After all, he was doing me a huge favor here.
Part of me wanted to run. Katie, don’t be ridiculous, I thought. Jace isn’t going to hurt you. Even though he’d argued with me yesterday about my father, I wondered if he knew something he wasn’t spilling. After all, he was a secretive man with a past. He had to have something.
But I knew I couldn’t run. I’d agreed to marry him, and that’s what I was going to have to do. The maid waited patiently for me to finish dressing, then she looked at me.
“Ma’am, would you like me to do your hair?” She held out her hands. “I’m used to doing hair,” she added. “I can do it up, if you’d like.”
I sighed. I wasn’t particularly in the mood to argue, and I hated having someone’s hands prickling my scalp. But I could tell she was already going out on a limb just from offering her services to me, and I didn’t want to be rude. “Sure,” I said, trying to force a smile on my face. “That would be great.”
An hour later, I barely recognized myself. The maid had pinned up my hair in an elegant, sweeping updo held by thousands of pins that I could feel pricking my scalp, but none of them were visible. I was astounded at how I looked.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “This is really lovely.”
She nodded. “I got practice from my daughter,” she said, failing to conceal a smile. “For her quinceañera. She was so picky!”
“Your practice paid off,” I replied, admiring the back of my hair in the mirrored glass. “Thank you again.”
“Of course.” She nodded. “Will there be anything else?”
I bit my lip. Part of me was dying to ask her if Jace was there, if I would be able to run away without getting caught. It would be so easy. Just slip out the door, run down the driveway, go back to my old life.
I closed my eyes and thought about it. For a moment, it was incredibly tempting. But then I remembered Troy, and all the other kinds of trouble that were waiting for me back at my apartment. I was trading my freedom for protection, and part of me still wasn’t sure that it was a good idea.
But before I had time to speak, Jace b
urst into the room, deflating my bubble. The maid smiled with a knowing look on her face as she bowed to Jace and showed herself out of the room.
“Hey,” Jace said shortly. He was wearing a clean button-down shirt and dark jeans. “You ready?”
The vision of my running away burst like a balloon in my head. No matter what I thought when he wasn’t around, I knew that I couldn’t lie to Jace. And I couldn’t hide from him, and I most certainly couldn’t run from him. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m ready.”
To my surprise, Jace looked me up and down. “You’re gorgeous,” he said after a moment.
My heart melted a little. “Thanks,” I replied. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
Jace grinned. It was a grin that didn’t exactly suit him—both boyish and charming. It intrigued me; I started wondering just what other qualities Jace had that I’d never laid eyes on.
