Blood & Rust (Lock & Key #4)

by Cat Porter

  “Clients?” asked Finger, his eyes narrowing.

  “Yeah, politicians, big-business millionaires, crime lords, a few celebrities, too.”

  “What are you talking about? Drugs, weapons?” asked Catch.

  I had their attention. Every single Flame in the room had their eyes glued on me. Led was ready to pounce like a junkyard dog.

  “Drugs were only the party favors here, the thank-you-for-your-business swag,” I replied. “No, Reich catered to one of a kind personal tastes. Snuff films, kiddie porn, gay porn, sex slaves—male and female. All made to order according to clients’ likes and dislikes. Reich here is a first rate entertainment mogul. Huge moneymaking business and all of it going into a single pocket. His.”

  Finger’s harsh eyes were pinned on me.

  “I know the Flames have a history with a lot of that shit—legendary, in fact,” I said.

  “We shut it down decades ago after too much heat with the FBI,” replied Finger.

  “Well, news flash, Reich, your national VP, quietly resuscitated it all on his own. Only, this time, underground, way underground. And this here”—I waved the flash drive that Nina and I had stolen from Reich—“this little stick has the private information of every client on it. Not just names, dates, places, but also all their extra-special tastes and quirky preferences. You can imagine, if this shit got in the hands of, let’s say, TMZ, right? The backbone of this business is keeping the info-sharing down to the barest minimum. Reich is their only contact. No go-betweens, no secretaries. Just him. It’s key for their confidentiality and his offshore bank account, of course. This shit gets out, he’s gonna be burned to the stake in more ways than one.”

  “That’s my business! Mine!” Reich shouted. “You’ve got no claim on it.”

  “You had that in your hands all this time?” Finger’s tone was clipped, harsh. “What were you gonna do, Butler? Use it to bait me, offer it to me like a fucking carrot, to make our tentative agreements go your way? Get thicker cuts out of us?”

  “Why not?” I shot back.

  Finger slammed a fist on the table at his side, and my stomach hardened.

  I took in a breath. “Reich does have a point though.”

  Reich’s head perked up at me.

  “This is none of my business. Not anymore,” I said. “It used to be a family issue for me. Nina was my old lady after all, and I got her out from under this animal. But she’s not my old lady now. Now, this really isn’t my business, is it?”

  Reich’s lips drew back in a snarl. “Give it to me.”

  I sent him a grin. “I’m giving it all right.”

  I tossed the flash drive at Finger, and he caught it, his long fingers curling over it.

  “You motherfucker!” Reich exploded

  “Yes, I am a motherfucker,” I said, making a show of wiping my hands. “And now I’m done with you, too.”

  Finger gestured to his men, and two of them jumped forward and grabbed Reich by the arms. Finger held out the flash drive, and another Flame took it and hooked it up to his open laptop on the table.

  Finger caught my eyes and raised his chin. “Get out.”

  “You don’t expect me to walk away now and leave Reich standing, do you?” I asked.

  “You don’t have a choice here, Butler,” said Finger. “You’re one Jack among many Flames and on our property. Unless you’ve got a death wish, you need to leave now while I still give a shit. I got business to take care of here.”

  “You lied to me, Finger! He’s ours!” I shouted.

  The Flame at the computer raised his head from the screen. “It’s all here, Prez, just like Butler said. Plenty of fucked-up shit. Long list of names and info. Goes back for years.”

  A flicker of emotion crossed Finger’s face. His version of an excited expression. He eyed me. “Reich is mine. The second you leave, I’m going to blow his fucking head off myself.”

  Finger turned to another brother. “Have them pick up the old lady and bring her here.”

  The man nodded and stalked off, his phone at his ear.

  “What’s going on?” Nina asked Catch, her eyes wide. “Why is Deanna coming here? They’re not going to hurt her, are they?”

  “It’s all right, baby.” Catch rubbed her shoulder. “We just need to talk to her about what she knows.”

  Finger motioned to two of his men. “Get the Jack off my property.”

  Two Flames grabbed my arms, and I jerked away from them. “Fuck you!”

  “Leave, Butler, or we’re gonna have problems you haven’t even dreamed of,” Finger said on a hiss, his ravaged face a forbidding scowl.

  His men grabbed at me again.

  “You’re going to pay for this, you son of a bitch!” Led charged at me, his face red.

  Two Flames stopped him in his tracks, yanking him back.

  “Never trusted you! Never!” Led shouted, bucking in their hold.

  “Oh, don’t get me started with you, asshole!” I said. “You always wanted a piece of my woman from the very beginning.” I gestured at Nina with my thumb. “You tried so hard, but she never wanted your crooked dick, did she?”

  “You didn’t deserve her, you son of a bitch!” Reich yelled, lunging toward me, a gun in his hand.

  Boom.

  A choked gasp.

  A split second of silence.

  Reich crumpled to the floor, a bullet hole scorching the skin of his forehead. Blood spouted from the raw opening, down his face. Led fell to his brother’s side, his hands on Reich’s lifeless chest.

  “That good for you, Jack?” Finger’s steely eyes held mine across the room. “‘Cause that’s good for me.” He slid his gun behind his back. The humid air in the room was thick with gunpowder and sweat. The unmistakable stench of panic and resolve.

  Unfuckingequivocal.

  “Yeah. Yeah, that’s good for me.” I muttered, grinding my jaw.

  “Get out of my club,” Finger said.

  I shoved past the Flames and stormed outside the building, my blood beating a wild rhythm through my veins, slamming in my chest.

  I got into my truck and started her up as the guards opened the gates for me.

  They handed me back my gun and knife, and I took off and left Nebraska behind me.

  I leaned my head out the window and took in a gulp of air as I crossed into South Dakota, a grin tugging on my lips.

  RIP, Reich.

  Nah, fuck you. Rot in hell.

  “I LOVE THIS SONG! Come on, Grace, dance with me!”

  Grace laughed. “You need a man for this song.”

  “Psht! A man!” I brought my margarita glass to my mouth and took a long tangy swallow.

  Dead Ringer’s Roadhouse was packed tonight, always popular on its Friday margarita night. A number of days had passed since my insanity with Reich, and I was doing okay. Well, mostly on the outside. My broken skin was now scabbed over but scarred. On the inside, I was still wobbly and just as scarred. I’d had trouble sleeping. I couldn’t concentrate at work. All the same, I wanted to get back to some sort of normal. And when Grace had suggested a night out, as Alicia certainly needed a distraction and a few laughs, too, I was all for it.

  Tonight, the tables at Dead Ringer’s were full of couples and rowdy groups of both young and old—cowboys, bikers, college types from Rapid, and plain ole townies. The dance floor was crowded, and the band was playing a great selection of classic rock and current country tunes.

  Grace and I used to come here when we were in high school, proudly brandishing the fake IDs her sister had procured on our behalf. Ruby had been two years older than us, and she would strut in here like she owned the place—ordering a round of drinks, smoking cigarettes, flirting with whomever she wanted. No apologies, and most certainly, no regrets. She’d been our idol, our mentor in how to cut loose and have a good time, how to own it.

  Never in a million years would I have thought that I’d be back here with the One-Eyed Jacks, and the force of nature that was
Ruby would be erased from the earth.

  I need to get my Ruby on.

  The Jacks were having a night out for the first time since Jump’s death. They needed something to celebrate. Working with Finger’s Flames of Hell was proving to be smooth sailing so far on the one project that had gotten off the ground this past week with Butler at the helm. He wasn’t managing the Tingle any longer. This, I had gleaned from Alicia and Grace’s conversations when they brought me lunch at the gallery one afternoon.

  My brother and Nina seemed to be a good match. They were heavy in love, and she didn’t put up with any of his shit, and Catch liked the handful he had at his side and in his bed. He was looking forward to having another child. He’d called me to talk one night, shocking the hell out of me. He’d sounded good over the phone, and I was grateful for this new start between us.

  Alicia refilled my and Mary Lynn’s glasses for the third time. Or was it the fourth? Her emotions were all over the place, but she’d been trying to keep them in check for her son’s sake. Wes, too, was a riot of feelings and tempers, and she matched him one for one, from what I could tell. Yes, she definitely needed and deserved a night out and a good distraction.

  Amen to that.

  Alicia raised her margarita glass in the direction of the bar behind me. “I remember when he first showed up in Meager. Every girl wanted a piece of that gorgeous ass.”

  “Who? Who?” I pivoted in my chair.

  “Butler,” she replied with her trademark throaty laugh.

  Along with Kicker and Dready, Butler was perched at the bar, his eyes on us. I hadn’t seen or heard from him since that night I couldn’t fall asleep and I’d heard his bike down the road. Here he was, staring at me from across a crowded, noisy saloon. My heart did a little dance in my chest.

  I raised my glass at him, and he slanted his head, a smile flickering across his lips. Those full, luscious lips. I missed him. I sipped my drink and turned around in my seat once more.

  His words echoed in my memory, that sensual tone of voice. “What are you doing to me?”

  Did he’d regret getting that close? Maybe—

  Ah, who the hell knows?

  “Those gorgeous blue eyes.” Alicia let out a groan. “That almost white-blond hair streaked with sun, that tanned skin…fuck, he was a sight. I’d just started hanging out with the club then. Jump was with Ruby at the time.”

  “And a couple of months later, Dig and I got together.” Grace sipped on her beer.

  “Yep.” Alicia took a swallow of her margarita. “I had tried it on with Butler, but he only had eyes for one girl—in between screwing everything in sight!” She rolled her eyes and leaned into Grace, laughing.

  “I remember that,” Mary Lynn said as she sipped on her drink, wiping back her straight brown hair from her face.

  “Obviously, he didn’t screw everything in sight, eh?” I said.

  What a shame. Alicia had never gotten her talons into Butler’s ass. My back straightened as I downed my margarita. Ha-fucking-ha.

  Wait a sec. Was she trolling for sex now with Butler?

  No, no, no, no, no. Sorry, girlfriend.

  A tall man in his early fifties with wavy salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a ponytail approached our table. Colorful tattoos covered almost every inch of visible skin along with piercings in his ears and heavy silver jewelry draped around his neck and wrists. “Good evening, ladies. It’s been a long while since I’ve seen you.”

  “Hey, Ronny!” Grace jumped up and hugged him. “Let me introduce you to my friend Tania. Tania, this is Ronny, the best tattoo artist this side of the Missouri.”

  “Good to meet you,” I said, shaking his large tattooed hand. “I’ve heard lots of stories about you.”

  “That’s what I like to hear!” he said on a deep laugh. “You’re all looking beautiful tonight.” His gaze slicked over all of us, settling on Alicia.

  “You look terrific, by the way,” Grace said, sitting back down next to me.

  “Thanks, babe. Feel even better.” His hand went to Alicia’s arm. “Dance with me, Alicia,” His voice was low, almost gentle.

  Alicia shot a glance at Grace and stood up. Without a word, she strutted to the dance floor on her impossibly high heels. Ronny winked at me and Grace, and then he followed Alicia.

  All righty then.

  Ronny took the slight Alicia close against his body, moving her to the music, and they fell into an easy rhythm.

  “Ooh,” I said, “what’s going on there?”

  “Very, very long story,” said Grace. “I gave him a call earlier and told him he should pop by.”

  “They look good together,” Mary Lynn mused.

  “They do.” Grace pushed her beer bottle to the side. “I can’t get over how good he looks.”

  “Why?” I asked, scanning the saloon for our waitress, any waitress.

  “He was always heavy and bulky. But, recently he had some serious health issues. He went and got himself one of those gastrointestinal surgeries, started eating right and exercising, and look at him now. He must have lost over sixty, seventy pounds at least, and that sparkle in his eyes…never better. He looks freaking hot!” She burst out into peals of laughter.

  “He does. But what’s so funny?” I asked.

  “Because I never thought I’d ever say that about Ronny!”

  “Right?” Mary Lynn shook with laughter.

  “So, he’s the best tattoo artist around?” I asked.

  “God, yes. He’s had a parlor in Deadwood for decades. He was my first. He gave me my wildflower.”

  “Ah, right.” Wildflower had been Dig’s nickname for Grace. She’d gotten a tattoo commemorating it somewhere on her ass.

  “And Miller and I went to him for our new ones.” Grace’s eyes widened. “Are you thinking of getting one?”

  “I thought maybe a tattoo would cover up these ugly marks on my chest.”

  Mary Lynn’s eyes lit up. “Great idea!”

  “What are you thinking of getting?” asked Grace.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Ronny can do anything. He’s done a lot of Lenore’s work. And you know that gorgeous piece on Alicia’s back? He did that, too.”

  “Really? That’s a masterpiece.”

  Grace’s eyes darted to Alicia and Ronny on the dance floor. “That was a special work of art. Let’s just say, he and Alicia have a rich history.”

  Ronny’s hand stroked up and down Alicia’s back as he held her close, swaying to the now slower music. They spoke and smiled at one another.

  “That is certainly obvious.”

  “She looks relaxed. I’m glad,” murmured Grace.

  “Me, too.”

  “I’m going to hit the ladies room. Be right back.” Mary Lynn plonked her empty glass on the table and darted off.

  Still no sign of a free waitress, and the empty margarita pitcher was very empty. I scanned the dimly lit cavernous saloon once more. My eyes caught Butler standing against the bar with Kicker at his side, talking, but the blond god’s heavy gaze was on me. My insides surged with heat, and I stiffened every muscle against the tide.

  Grace had remarked that Butler had also been spending a lot of time at Lock’s shop, working on the club’s go-kart project with kids from the junior high. He was keeping busy, and maybe he was keeping his distance. The last time we were together, I’d asked him to leave the room so that Finger and I could speak privately. Butler hadn’t liked that. Not one nasty bit.

  Even though Butler now sat across the vast saloon, that singular rush of crazy shot through my veins.

  I smoothed my hair back and faced the crowded dance floor once more. Boner and Jill were dancing slowly, both of them ignoring the fast beat of the new song now playing, only talking, laughing, their faces inches apart, their bodies plastered against each other. Ronny and Alicia continued their tango of reconnection close by.

  I’d just managed to disentangle myself from a marriage. It would pr
obably be best for me to keep things light right now. Butler obviously had issues, and boy, so did I. Lenore had the right idea with Tricky, didn’t she?

  Where is she anyway?

  I hadn’t seen much of her around the club or at any get-togethers. She hadn’t been at Jump’s funeral. Her store was only a block down from mine, but I hadn’t had the time to check in with her. I would have to get on that.

  I blinked at the sight of Lock kissing Grace, hard and deep, his longish black hair falling like a silky curtain around the angles of his face, his hands wrapped around her neck. There was something crude about that kind of kiss in public, and it really turned me on. Blatant possession. Raw need. An I-don’t-give-a-fuck, this-is-who-I-am-and-I’m-living-it moment.

  A long beer bottle clinked against my empty glass. “Hey, Tania. What’s up?”

  Big brownish-green eyes shone at me.

  Travis.

  Hot-rod Travis.

  Mighty attractive Travis.

  Maybe there was something to that The Secret crap after all. Ask and ye shall receive.

  I’ll bite.

  Thank you, universe!

  “Hey, Trav.” I grinned, sitting up straighter in my chair, eager to greet the new dawn.

  Travis was tall and bulky in that body-building-is-my-hobby kind of way. Dark blond hair paired with those warm eyes, tan skin, and an engaging smile made him swoon-worthy. Let’s not forget that Carolina accent. Yes, he was yummy.

  Travis winked at me. “You looked so serious there for a sec.”

  “Ah, just daydreaming.”

  “Good daydreams, I hope?”

  “You want to make them come true?”

  He laughed, a hand rubbing down his chest. “Hell yeah.”

  “Dance with me,” I said.

  He smiled huge as he took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. “I’m a Southern boy, you know. I take this shit seriously.”

  “Dancing to a good country song?”

  “Not only that.”

  “Oh? What else?”

  He leaned in closer to me, a firm arm snaking around my waist. “Making a beautiful lady’s dreams come true.”