by Naomi West
Leonard twirled the pistol again. His grin returned. All he needed was a fuckin’ mustache he could twirl. “Mr. Wilson,” he said, with supreme satisfaction. “You’re going to marry my daughter.”
Chapter Seven
Katrin’s heart continued to pound so hard it drowned out every sound in the room. What the hell was her father doing with assault rifles? With fucking rolls of cash stuffed inside peppershakers? She searched the bin again to see if it offered any further clues. Nothing but the weapons and the money.
She forced herself to rise, to take a step back. She kicked over one of the penguins. The room felt small and airless, and she struggled to breathe.
Her father had never expressed any particular interest in guns before. He had a small handgun and a permit to carry it, and he’d kept it on him when he was walking around Cincinnati late at night. Kept it behind the counter at his shop. But these were military-level weapons. And that amount of cash — you didn’t get it running a general goods store.
My father’s a … a…
She couldn’t let herself think it.
There had to be an explanation. She’d just wait until he got home, and then confront him about it.
But if he was a criminal … if he were someone she didn’t actually know at all, would he hurt her, if he learned she’d discovered his secret?
It was hard to imagine. He loved her. An unconditional, almost obsessive love. If she asked for the truth, he’d tell her. And she’d…
She’d stand by him. Of course she would. He was her father. The only parent she had left.
But what if he was the kind of man who hurt people? Killed people?
She closed her eyes, calling on memories of her mother.
What do I do?
Who is he?
Sometimes she swore she could feel her mother’s presence in the room, speaking to her, guiding her. There was nothing now.
Did you know?
She flashed back to the last time she’d spoken to her mother.“Honey, there’s something…”
And Katrin had waited.
“Never mind.”
She couldn’t stay here now. She had to talk to her father at once. She texted him.Are you at the store?
What had her mom been trying to tell her.
She waited a few minutes, staring at her screen, willing him to text back. No answer.
Dammit.
She went to the garage and got in her Ford. Pulled out of the driveway a little faster than necessary, and sped off toward the general store.
###
Katrin pulled into the parking lot of Pete’s Goods, out of breath and still shaking. The store was closed — it’s Opening Soon sign hung proudly across the front of the building. A light was on, and someone was moving inside. But her father’s car wasn’t anywhere in sight. She shut off the car and hurried toward the door, her heels clacking on the pavement.
Rex was in there. What the hell? Wasn’t he supposed to still be tending bar at Hammered & Nailed? She knocked on the glass. Rex spotted her, smiled, and came over to let her in.
“Katrin. What’s up?”
“Do you have any idea where my father is?” she asked.
Rex’s brow furrowed with concern. “Something wrong?”
“I just need to talk to him. I thought maybe he was here.”
Rex studied her carefully. “He’s out on a delivery. He’ll be back soon.”
A delivery? At this time of night? What kind of delivery?
“He’s not answering my texts or calls,” she said pointedly.
Rex’s eyes flicked. He was nervous.
Shit. Shit shit shit. What had she gotten herself into?
She could play dumb. People always assumed pretty girls weren’t too bright. And she could find out what Rex knew.
She softened her voice, widened her eyes. “He’s … I think he might be in some kind of trouble.”
She didn’t miss Rex’s slight frown. “Why do you say that?”
How much to reveal? She gave her voice a little quaver, for good measure. “I found some things … I think he might be caught up with some bad people.”
Rex’s jaw twitched. Whatever her father was involved in, Rex was at least peripherally aware of it, if not involved outright. She was sure. “What kinds of things?”
“I can’t go into detail. But I need to talk to him. If you know where he is, then please, Rex, tell me.”
“I can call him,” Rex said finally. “He might be more likely to answer if he thinks there’s an emergency with the store.”
More likely than if he thinks there’s an emergency with his daughter? Katrinwas still half numb. Whowas this man they were talking about? It couldn’t be the same man posing with Goofy in that Disney World photo. The same man who told her not to ride a motorcycle because it was too dangerous.
Rex went in the back room to make the call. So he didn’t trust Katrin to hear what he might say to her dad. That told her a great deal. She looked around. Pete’s Goods was a small, unassuming shop, only a little larger than a gas station store. It sold a small selection of hardware, toiletries, and food essentials. Once it officially opened, her dad said he planned to partner with a local bakery to sell a few baked goods.
He’s my father,she reminded herself, despite the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.How can the man who’s treated this store like a labor of love, who wants to sell Bundt cakes, for Christ’s sake, be … bad?
There was no proof he was.
Except that Rex is back there having a private call with him. Except that I found an AK-47 in one of his moving bins.
She could run. Leave the store right now, and go … where, exactly?
She had to see this through. Had to learn the truth.
Keeping an eye on the door to the back room, she crept behind the counter. In the store her dad had run in Ohio, he’d always kept that handgun behind the counter, on a shelf under the register. Hopefully he kept it here too. She didn’t trust Rex, didn’t trust anyone at the moment.
She was feeling around under the register when Rex emerged from the back room. He took one look at her, and his face went dark.
“What are you doing?”
She straightened, struggling to remain calm. “I could ask the same of you.”
Rex rubbed his balding head. Smirked.
Shit.
“Where’s my father?” she asked coldly.
“Sorry, honey.” Rex grinned. “He’s busy.”
“With what?” She didn’t like the way Rex was looking at her. She wanted to demand to know about the guns, the money, wanted to order him to put her on the phone with her father.
To her horror, Rex lifted his shirt slightly, revealing the butt of a revolver. He let his shirt drop down, the gesture casual, as if it wasn’t even intentional. But of course it had been.
“Hang tight, Katrin.” He pulled up a folding plastic chair and motioned to it. “Why don’t you have a seat right here? Your daddy will be back soon. And he’s got plans for you.”
Chapter Eight
“Marry her?” Pistol fairly spat the words. “The hell are you talking about?”
“You’re a bit slow, I’m afraid, aren’t you?” Leonard’s eyes glinted. “Marry her. In a church. Before God and all your little friends. Marry her, and then give me a grandchild.”
Pistol wanted to burst out laughing. This was the craziest thing he’d ever fucking heard. He was pretty sure Leonard was just doing it to humiliate him — train the gun on him, make him say he’d marry Katrin, and then laugh at him for taking the plan seriously. Because, crazy bullshit aside, what father would let his daughter marry someone she’d barely met? Let alone demand that the guy she’d barely met get her pregnant?
But Leonard looked dead serious.
Pistol curled his lip into a half grin, half sneer. “That’s insane. You’re insane.”
“Am I?” Leonard waved the gun slightly. Pistol refused to flinch. “Then I guess you’d better no
t push me, hmm?”
Oh, I’ll do so much more than push you, you fucking—
“You’d better do it, Pistol.” Kong’s low, tight voice.
Pistol turned to him, stunned. “What?”
“Say yes.”
No way. No way would Pedro “Kong” Ortiz go along with this for any fucking reason. Pistol’s hands clenched at his sides, and he prepared to protest, to fight. The look Kong gave him was nearly inscrutable, but Pistolsuddenly understood.You have no choice. Do this for your brothers. Give him what he wants … for now.
Pistol turned back to Leonard. “DoesKatrin want this?”
Leonard brushed some imaginary piece of lint from his suit. “She seemed quite taken with you when she spoke about you earlier. I imagine she’ll come around to the idea without too much fuss.”
“You haven’ttold her?”
“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Jesus Christ. This guy was a bona fide lunatic.
Somewhere, a coyote howled. Others answered it, a chorus of yips and wails that made the nearly non-existent hair on the back of Pistol’s neck stand up.
Then there was another sound — one Pistol didn’t recognize at first. A frantic, huffing sound that Pistol suddenly realized was coming from Mica. He glanced at the kid. Mica was half doubled over, shaking with near hysterical laughter.
“Shut up,” Kongsnarled at the kid. “Shutup.”
But Mica straightened, still laughing, and looked directly at Leonard. “That’s your evil genius plan? You want a grandkid so bad you’re gonna make Pistol marry your daughter? Dude, that’s … that’s lame as fuck.”
Pistol’s heart pounded. He could see that Mica’s hysteria was a cover for his terror, but he wanted to congratulate the kid for saying what was on everyone’s mind. He couldn’t tell if Mica was stupid as hell, or a whole lot braver than Pistol and Kong and the others combined. “Kid, don’t,” he hissed.
Leonard took a step closer to Mica — thought not before gesturing to a henchman to take over guarding Pistol. “What’s your name?” he asked Mica quietly.
“Leonard,” Pistol called. “This is between you and me. Leave him out of this.”
Mica bit his lip, but huffs of laughter kept escaping. He leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with Leonard, and enunciated each word: “Fuck. You.”
Leonard raised the pistol and fired once. Mica went to the ground, clutching his shoulder and screaming in pain.
Leonard turned back to the group, pretending to scan it before his gaze landed once more on Pistol. “Now, where were we?”
Pistol tried to drown out Mica’s cries, his jaw set tight. This was serious. This was dead fucking serious, and Pistol wasn’t feeling very confident anymore. Still, he squared his shoulders and faced Leonard. “You were blackmailing me into marrying your daughter.”
“Ah, yes.” Leonard gestured at him with the gun. “I’m not going to get down on one knee and offer you a ring, Jax.” His voice softened. “Say yes.”
Pistolhad a sudden vision of his mother — her brittle, bleached hair as wild as her eyes. Her bony fingers were clasped around his wrist, and she was staring at him, tears tracking down her cheeks.“Say you’ll stay with me. Say you’ll stay no matter what.”
He was sixteen years old. Old enough to drop out of school, if he wanted to. Old enough to get a job. To leave this house and this woman behind. But the way she looked at him… He was afraid to disobey her. Afraid of what she’d do to him, to herself, if he didn’t say what she wanted him to say.
“Say yes, Jax.”
He’d sworn he’d never let himself feel that helpless again.
“Promise me.”
And after all those weeks of waiting for his sixteenth birthday, saving money, dreaming of the day the authorities couldn’t make him go back to her…
“Yes,”he’d said, voice cracking.“I promise.”
Now here he was, in a stare-down with this fuckhead, and everything in him wanted to fight. He didn’t even care if he went down, just as long as he got a chance to physically tear that smirk off this asshole’s face before he died.
But Kong’s words came back to him from seven years ago.“You have potential. But you’re reckless.”
“So when do I get a spot in the club?” he’d demanded once, a studied sullenness covering up his need, his desperation to be allowed into the Blackened Souls. To have a family he could fucking rely on.
“When you learn to put others’ needs before your own. When you learn you’re not the center of the universe.”
He stared at Leonard. Mica’s groans had turned to soft hisses.
What other way out was there? For the sake of his brothers, he had to bow down. It was temporary anyway. As soon as they were out of here, they’d regroup at the clubhouse and start strategizing. They’d find a way to get Leonard Smith to back off. Hell, if Pistol was lucky, maybe Kong would assign him to personally “exterminate” the bastard.
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth, glaring defiantly at Leonard for another moment before dropping his gaze.
“Excellent,” Leonard said, and Pistol could hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll bring the happy news home to my daughter.”
Love to see how she handles that.
He felt another ache as he thought of Katrin.
Leonard’s henchmen began loading the truck. Leonard grinned again.
“Pedro? I’ll be in touch.”
Pistol watched Kong. Kong wouldn’t look at Leonard. Wouldn’t look at Pistol. Pistolfelt a stab of betrayal.You let this happen. I thought you’d come here to help us fight. Not bend over and let this dog fuck you.
There had to be a reason.Hadto be.
Kong went with Ford to hoist Deion up, while Bones went to help Mica. Deion was conscious, but barely. Kong put Deion on Kong’s own bike, on the bitch seat. He growled at Deion to hold onto his waist and not let go.
A few feet away, Mica gave a groan through gritted teeth as Bones pulled him up.
Leonard still had his pistol on Pistol. “Jax? This goes without saying, but don’t even think about running. I have friends in high places. And I know you’re not a coward. Are you?”
Pistol narrowed his eyes. “I’m no coward.”
“Good. I’ll be in contact about wedding arrangements.” Leonard gestured toward the hut. “Go ahead. Mount up.”
Pistol guessed he wasn’t getting his Glock back.
He walked numbly to the hut, aware of Leonard watching him. All this reckless rage, and nowhere to put it. So he thought instead about Katrin. Those eyes. No girl’s eyes had ever pierced him like hers. Had made him want to … to know her.
Shit. He’d never wanted anything like that before. Had never needed anything but his bike, the open road, and his brothers. The idea of being with Katrin filled him with a combination of fear and resentment and something else, something deeper, wilder, something he didn’t understand.
Holy fuck.
He was getting married.
Chapter Nine
Katrin stood in the backroom of the church, staring up at a stained glass window depicting the Ascension. She was praying for the first time since her mother’s illness. Nothing coherent about the prayer, just a stream of random pleas under her breath.
She was shaking.
She looked down at her floor-length white strapless gown, with its beaded bodice, lace detail, and long, swooshing train. The sort of dress she’d spent hours staring at in a catalogue when she was little. Imagining the day she’d be grown up enough, lucky enough to wear it.
Lucky.
It had been four weeks since her father had come to retrieve her from Pete’s Goods. She’d been sitting in a chair by the register, trembling with rage as Rex puttered behind the counter, whistling, his revolver in one hand. She imagined rushing him, imagined grabbing the gun and fleeing the store. Fleeing this town, jumping in her car and driving back to Ohio, back to Maddy and her memories of a happier time.
But she was scared. Scared of a man with a gun. Scared of what her father would do when he turned up.
Rex had seen her eyeing the door. “Don’t even think about it, girlie.”
