by Susan Stoker
Mickie sipped her coffee, trying to look unfazed on the outside, but internally she was freaking out. “I don’t? How often have you seen him since your friends have been buying weed from him?”
Mickie wasn’t happy with the look that crossed her sister’s face. It was one thing to be right, and another to hurt your only sister in the process.
“For your information, I saw him last night, at his club. And tomorrow night he’s invited me to his clubhouse for a big party.”
“Uh-huh.” Mickie’s voice dripped with antagonism.
“And because you asked, smartass, he might have sold us weed and coke but that’s not why he’s still with me.”
“What the hell, Angel?”
As if she didn’t hear Mickie, Angel continued, “He’s with me because I can suck his dick so good it makes his eyes roll back in his head. He taught me to deep throat him and he told me no one has ever been able to take him so deep before.”
In a horrified voice, ignoring her last statement, Mickie whispered, “Coke, as in cocaine?”
“Yeah, as in cocaine. It’s fucking awesome. It makes everything so much…more. If you didn’t have such a stick up your ass I’d let you try it, but I know it’d be a waste of good blow.”
“Are you even listening to yourself? My God, Angel. We weren’t raised this way. You’re using drugs, for God’s sake!”
“Yeah, and I like it. You have no idea how it feels to have a man look at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. To know that you were the one who satisfied him.”
“I do know how it feels, Angel, and it didn’t take drugs to make it happen.”
“Bullshit. There’s no way you felt with Troy anything like what me and Ransom have.”
Mickie didn’t even argue or try to explain that it wasn’t Troy she’d felt it with, she had more important things to worry about. “Angel, please, you know taking drugs isn’t good. Let me help you.”
“Help me? Jesus, Mickie. Get over yourself. I don’t want your help, or anyone’s help. I like the drugs. I like how I feel on them. Nothing you can say will change my mind.”
“How about the effects of cocaine on your body then? Hallucinations, depression, psychosis, heart attacks, destruction of the lining of your nose, your teeth falling out, infertility or brain damage. That’s just to name the things I can think of off the top of my head.”
“Whatever. You’ve been watching too many public service announcements or something. I’m fine, sister of mine. I can stop whenever I want.”
“That’s what everyone says,” Mickie said sadly.
“Well, I mean it. Now, get the fuck out. Oh, but give me your key first. I don’t need any more surprise visits like this one. I feel like shit and I want to go back to sleep. There’s that party tomorrow night that I want to make sure I’m in top shape for.”
“Party?”
“Yeah, I told you. At the clubhouse. Shit, see? You don’t listen to anything I say.”
“Angel, you can’t go.”
Angel laughed in an incredibly mean way. “Watch me. Now give me my fucking key and get out. I don’t want to see you again.”
Mickie knew Angel well enough to know there was no use talking to her when she was like this. She sadly put the key to Angel’s apartment on the table in front of her and stood up. “I love you, Angel. You’re my only sister and I practically raised you. I only want what’s best for you. I worry about you and I’d give my life for yours, no questions asked. But I can’t stand watching you throw your life away. You’re smarter than this. I know deep down you know what you’re doing is not only wrong, but dangerous as well. Ransom is not a good guy. I’m sorry you can’t see that, and I hope like hell you will before it’s too late. But if not, even if it takes you years, I’m here for you. That’s what family does.”
“Oh for God’s sake, seriously, get the fuck out. Don’t pull that family bullshit with me. You’ve always thought you were better than me, and I’m sick of it.”
Mickie shook her head sadly and turned to leave. She paused at the front door, hoping Angel would somehow come to her senses.
“Why aren’t you gone yet?” Angel walked over to Mickie and pushed her…hard.
Mickie stumbled out the door and almost fell on her ass. When she regained her balance, she looked up at the pissed-off face of her sister. Mickie didn’t even recognize the little girl she used to play Barbies with anymore. That girl was gone, and in her place was an out-of-control woman on the path to destruction.
Mickie winced at the loud bang of the door as it slammed shut. She heard the deadbolt click into place and the chain being put on.
Not willing to give up on Angel altogether, no matter that she’d just shoved her hard enough that if she’d fallen it would’ve really hurt, Mickie thought about what she could do to help her sister as she walked toward her car.
She stopped suddenly in the middle of the parking lot.
If she could get proof of how much of an asshole Ransom was, Angel would have to at least listen to her. She wouldn’t like it, but maybe, just maybe it would work. It was a long shot, but Mickie didn’t know of anything else she could do to get through to Angel.
She walked quickly to her car, trying to think through what she could do. It was dangerous; it wasn’t like she was a secret agent. She knew she was acting a bit stupid, but it was either risk it or lose her sister altogether.
Mickie knew Angel was at a crossroads. She’d been serious when she’d told her sister that she’d die for her. She loved Angel. No matter how many harsh words she threw at her, Mickie knew deep down Angel loved her too.
She was betting on it.
Chapter Fifteen
Mickie read the text on her phone and sighed. It was the second time Cruz had texted her and she wasn’t sure she was in the right frame of mind to listen to his excuses. Angel’s words were still rattling around in her head. Her sister could always find just the right, or wrong, thing to say to hurt her the most. Mickie looked down at her phone.
I know you’re still mad. Plze let me explain.
She quickly typed in a response to Cruz and threw the phone on the coffee table in front of her.
Today sucked. Can it wait until tomorrow?
Mickie closed her eyes and thought through her plan for tomorrow night. It was risky, but then again, so was what Angel was doing. She sighed as her cell vibrated with another text, most likely from Cruz.
Mickie leaned forward and snagged the phone, looking at the text. It was long, Mickie knew it would’ve taken Cruz forever to type it all out with the way he hunted and pecked on the keyboard screen.
Yeah. It can wait. But know this, I didn’t talk about what we did with anyone. There’s no way I could even come up with the words to even try to tell someone else what we did, how I felt with you in my arms. I know it’s fast, and we still have a lot to learn about each other, but please don’t doubt that yesterday was the most intense, beautiful experience of my entire life. I’ll call you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.
“Oh my God.” Mickie simply stared down at the screen of her phone in disbelief. Still whispering, she declared to the room, “He did not just say that.”
Just when Mickie was ready to completely break things off with Cruz, he went and said something that had her wishing he was there with her right now. Was she being as blind as Angel? Was Cruz playing her as she thought Ransom was playing her sister? She honestly didn’t think so, but she supposed it was possible. She hadn’t met any of his friends, had only talked to the one woman on the phone during their first date at his place. And how did she even know Mack was really Mack? Maybe it was some skank he’d put up to it. Maybe everything he’d told her was made up…
Mickie sighed and put her phone down next to her hip and rested her head on the back of the couch. It was too much to think about right now. She hated doubting herself. She hated doubting Cruz. She so badly wanted him to be a good guy, but she was confused, and yes, still hurt by wh
at she’d overheard. She’d let his words sink in and call him tomorrow.
As much as she was disappointed in what had happened last night, she wanted to hear what Cruz had to say. She sure hoped he had a good explanation. Even with all her confusion and doubt, she didn’t want to give him up.
* * *
After a restless night’s sleep, which was full of erotic dreams about Cruz, and nightmares about Angel, Mickie got up and showered. She had to go to work, which sucked, but she’d taken the day before off and knew her boss would be pissed if she called off too many days in a row.
She went into the parking lot, relieved to see her car still had four functional tires, and drove to work, thinking all the way about what her next step was with Angel. Mickie headed for her desk, calling out greetings to the mechanics and other administrative employees as she went.
Generally, Mickie liked her job and her boss, but she had a ton of stuff she needed to do, and working wasn’t one of them. Sometimes it sucked to be a responsible adult.
Mickie wished Cruz was at the top of her list, but he wasn’t. She had to figure out how to show Angel that Ransom was an asshole. Then she had to figure out how to convince Angel that she needed to get off of the drugs she was using and get her into rehab, if she needed it. Once she had that worked out, she could concentrate on Cruz and their relationship.
And that was the thing…Mickie had thought they had a relationship, but now she wasn’t so sure. Was she a one-night stand to Cruz? Did he really care about seeing her again, or did he merely want to explain why he’d been so cold on the phone the other night and move on? Mickie sighed. She had no idea.
She settled into her chair at her desk while her mind was going a million miles an hour. Mickie started jotting her ideas down on a sticky note from her desk on what she was going to do that night. Angel was going to the Red Brothers’ clubhouse for a party? Then so was she. It was a free country. If Angel could party with the MC, so could Mickie.
The phone rang. Mickie took a deep breath to get back into the proper head space for work, and answered.
* * *
Okay, Mickie knew she was officially crazy. She was standing in her apartment, looking at herself in the mirror. After work, she’d gone straight to the mall and to one of the stores she normally wouldn’t ever think about shopping in. It had leather and spikes and all sorts of other clothing that teenagers might wear. Mickie knew if she was going to crash a party at a motorcycle club, she’d better at least try to look like she fit in.
She decided on a pair of jeans that were too tight, but she’d managed to squeeze herself into a size ten. The denim hugged her ass and her thighs and actually didn’t look too bad, if Mickie did say so herself. The jeans were cut so that the extra weight she carried around her waist didn’t spill over the top. They were so low, Mickie kept looking back to make sure her ass crack wasn’t showing. It wasn’t. Barely.
The top was harder to decide on. Mickie figured black was the safest color to wear, and so she’d bought a push-up bra that literally squeezed her boobs together higher than they’d ever been squeezed before, and a short-sleeved shirt that had mesh on the upper part and was solid below.
Mickie tilted her head and eyed herself critically. This was the most provocative thing she’d ever worn, and to think she was going to wear it to a party where there were drugs, bikers and, most likely, prostitutes, was completely unbelievable.
She wiped her sweaty hands down her thighs. The deep vee of the shirt’s plunging neckline showcased her breasts in the tight bra. The mesh was actually really sexy and allowed her to show off her boobs, while the regular material hid her less-than-flat belly.
Mickie snorted. As if anyone would be able to look at anything other than her boobs. They were hard to ignore in the outfit. Her C-cup breasts were looking more like double D’s.
Mickie took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. She actually watched in the mirror as her nipple popped over the top of the bra and got stuck in the mesh that was covering it. She giggled nervously, and adjusted herself so she was adequately covered again. She made a mental note. No deep breathing.
Mickie had spiked her short hair up and even added a streak of pink along the side with temporary dye. She had no desire to walk around looking like a punk rocker after the night was over. She felt like enough of an abnormality as it was, but if she came to work with that bright-pink streak, her boss would have a heart attack.
She had applied makeup to her eyes with a heavy hand. Her mascara and eyeliner were caked on and she had eye shadow up to her eyebrows. Hating lipstick, but knowing it’d complete the look, Mickie had chosen a dark-red shade that even she had to admit made her look mysterious, and yes, sexy even. Mickie thought she looked about as ready as she was going to.
The last thing she needed was her phone. Mickie didn’t have any kind of special recording devices that women always seemed to have access to in the movies and television shows. It’d be handy to have a pin or something she could wear that would record everything she saw, but since she was flying by the seat of her pants here, and not dating James Bond, she’d have to rely on her cell phone, which was kind of a crapshoot.
She set it to the camera mode and clicked it to video. She’d practiced the best place to stash it and finally settled on her back pocket. The jeans were so tight it would keep the phone still, and Mickie could put it halfway in her pocket and it would stick up enough so the lens cleared the material. Then all she had to do was turn around and face away from whatever she wanted to film and voila!
Mickie’s phone vibrated in her hand, scaring the shit out of her. She laughed nervously and saw it was another text from Cruz. He’d been texting her all day, and Mickie had mostly ignored him. She could tell he was getting impatient with her though.
You gonna call?
Mickie’s fingers flew over the screen in response.
Tomorrow
Why not now?
I’ve got something I have to do
What?
Something
Mickie, I hate this
Mickie closed her eyes. She hated it too. But she had to get through tonight. At first she thought showing up at one of the motorcycle club parties and getting evidence for Angel that Ransom wasn’t a good person, would convince Angel to break up with him once and for all. But almost as soon as she had the thought, she dismissed it. Angel knew he was doing things he shouldn’t be, and unfortunately Mickie knew in her heart Angel was doing some of those bad things right along with him.
So her plan to “save her sister” morphed into something different. If she could get evidence of Ransom doing drugs, or selling it, or hell, even soliciting a prostitute, maybe she could get him arrested. If he was in jail, he couldn’t be around her sister. He’d get out eventually, but maybe it would be a while and in the meantime she could get Angel away from the club and the lifestyle. Mickie was afraid she was losing her sister too.
I’ll call you tomorrow
Ok. I have a thing I have to do tonight, but I’ll call you in the morning and we’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything.
A thing?
Yeah. A security job. I’ll call you early. Maybe we can get some lunch or something.
Ok
There was so much more Mickie wanted to ask, but she didn’t have the time and didn’t want to do it over text anyway.
Her phone vibrated once more, but it wasn’t a text from Cruz this time. It was Li. Mickie had called her and gotten Angel’s friend to agree to take her to the party that night. She had to pretend to be interested in the MC lifestyle and the drugs she’d be able to get in order for Li to finally agree to take her, but Mickie was apparently a better actress than she’d thought, because after only a short while, Li had agreed. Even though Mickie had never hung out with Li before, she’d seen her several times and Li had been pleasant to her. Whatever Angel’s faults were, she obviously wasn’t constantly talking about her annoying older sister to her friends. Which worked we
ll in Mickie’s favor at the moment.
Here
Be right down
Remembering not to take a deep breath, Mickie once more turned to her reflection in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize herself. Angel would be pissed when she saw her there tonight, but it was for her sister’s own good.
Mickie ran her index finger over the metal police car she’d put on her kitchen counter and smiled at the fake banana in the tailpipe. Cruz had a good sense of humor and she hoped they’d get to further explore what they had together.
She gripped her phone in her hand, stuffed her license and some bills into her back left pocket and headed out. She locked her door and then looked up and down the hall. Seeing no one, she awkwardly knelt in her tight jeans and put her key under her mat. Not the safest thing to do, but it’d work for tonight. Better than trying to keep track of a purse or putting the key in her pocket and risking losing it.
Mickie stood up and headed to Li’s car. This would work. It had to work.
* * *
Cruz ran his hand over his head and cursed. Mickie was still pissed at him and he hadn’t been able to talk to her yet. He’d wanted to talk to her before the party tonight, but she’d been at work for most of the day, and then she’d flatly refused to let him explain after. Cruz knew something was up, but he had too much other shit going down to be able to devote his complete attention to Mickie. As much as he hated that, it was true.
After the meeting with Axel the other night, and learning Chico Malo was the supplier behind Axel and the Red Brothers, Cruz had contacted his boss at the FBI. Knowing there was another large party at the clubhouse, which would be a great distraction, the takedown was planned for that night.
After the party got started, the FBI, with assistance from the Texas Rangers and SAPD, would surround the warehouse and take down Ransom and the rest of the members of the club. It was a huge operation, especially because of the amount of MC members that would be at the party and the danger involved.
