Time Owed

by Debra Kayn

"I know where your place is, Mr. Baker. Is Desiree agreeing to stay with you?" Sheriff Colby looked to Desiree. "A number?"

  "Five-five-five-zero-three-one-six," she said.

  The sheriff excused himself and walked around the corner of the building. The second she had room to breathe, Desiree walked over to Cam. While not saying anything, Cam judged her the whole time the sheriff talked with her.

  Jacko jumped in front of her before she could ask Cam why he came to town. "Let's get you out of here."

  She dug into the sidewalk. "I want to see what happened to my building."

  "Jacko, take her back to your place." Cam pinned Desiree with a look not to argue, started his motorcycle, and rode away.

  "What's going on?" She lowered her voice. "Please, tell me how this all happened and who ruined my bar."

  Jacko grabbed her elbow, escorting her down the sidewalk. "We'll talk inside."

  Without a home to go to, she had no choice but to go with him. Questions plagued her and nothing made sense. An hour ago, she'd decided to spend the hour before work going through Pop's office again to find the agreement between him and Reds. She even looked forward to Jacko and Katie coming over and helping her run the bar, because it would give her more time to figure out how to pay Reds back. Then her world blew up.

  Chapter Twenty

  The apartment above Cleo's Coffee Cave stank of booze, sweat, and coffee beans. Merk paced the living room, going from window to window, looking out at the curious crowd and commotion from authorities on Main Street from the explosion.

  He fought to make sense of what happened. He thrust his fingers in his hair and leaned over. Almost forty hours of his life came up missing.

  The second he realized Desi recognized him, he regretted pushing her. He left and drank the bottle he'd taken from the bar to stop the voices in his head. If he had stayed, she'd ask him too many questions and demand to know why he'd returned after thirteen years.

  Hell, she'd given him fucking permission to kill her.

  He kicked the end of the couch. Not once had she asked him why he'd shot her dad. Did she really believe he happened into the bar by coincidence, spotted her, and ended up killing her dad to protect her?

  He needed time to calm down before he faced Desi again

  Desi made him forget and he couldn't afford to fuck up. While he wanted his twelve lost years back, he had to protect Desi, too. For her to find out the real reason he came back, she'd lose all hope in everything she'd acquired and believed as the truth.

  He wouldn't be the man who stripped everything away from her and left her broken.

  Fuck. He'd wanted to keep his identity and let her believe she'd never met him before. He blew it before she'd fully committed to him.

  He'd become emotionally attached, needing her to see him for the man who'd saved her. He pushed and pushed, until she had no choice and he'd used her vulnerability at her weakest moment while he had his cock deep in her body.

  Around Desi, he became greedy and selfish. He couldn’t shut down, because she gave him a taste of freedom. The need to have her fully, possess her body and her mind, to gain her acceptance, burned inside of him. He wanted her trust as if he was fucking somebody she cared about.

  He'd never be free.

  Instead, he opened himself up and practically begged her to look at him. He fisted his hands and shook his arms. His body crawled with excess energy. He'd watched the moment recognition dawned on her and she remembered him. Fucking remembered him.

  He'd fucked her brains out, and she gave her emotions to him the same way she had as a child. That same shock, fear, and ultimately trust washed over her. He rubbed his hand over his chest, still able to feel the desperation as she clawed at him.

  He'd lost total control.

  God damn it. He never slipped around others. Not his MC brothers, not the Moroad women, not Christina, not Jeremy, not even Roni when she was alive.

  Desi was the one and only woman, because she saw past the shit he put in everyone's way. He'd lived day to day, prison sentence to prison sentence, blocking out the world and throwing himself into surviving.

  When he'd heard the explosion, he knew instantly Desi was in trouble. He never should've left her side. Even through the haze of alcohol, he'd made sure Jacko stayed with her at the bar. Johnson and Bear rolled through town between three in the morning to six o'clock, protecting her. He fingered his keychain in his pocket.

  Reds got through his protection, despite the extra steps he'd taken to keep her safe.

  His head pulsed against his skull. Pain, so pure and intense, flooded his thoughts. Anxiety tightened his chest, strangling his breath.

  He'd run out of time.

  When Desi looked into his eyes with the recognition of knowing him, she ripped him apart and left nothing behind.

  He had to put his plan into motion. Desi needed to know where she stood. He needed those twelve years back.

  The door opened. Jacko said, "Honey, I'm home, and I've got company."

  Merk straightened, trying to focus his vision. Then, he spotted Desi standing behind and off to the side of Jacko. Guilt from his fall from sobriety punched him in the chest.

  Jacko sighed. "The badges are all over her building and the sheriff wants her to stay away until they investigate what happened."

  "The last thing we need is law enforcement snooping around." Merk turned around, picked up an empty bottle to hide his hands shaking, and tossed the trash in the kitchen garbage can.

  "No way around law enforcement. The attack happened in town," Jacko said.

  Merk raised his gaze and caught the door swinging. Desi ran.

  "God damn it." He walked across the room and shoved Jacko out of the way. He damned the consequences forcing his hand.

  Out on the sidewalk, he caught sight of Desi already at the end of the block. He hopped on his bike and roared down the street, cutting her off before she crossed the street.

  Haunted eyes stared at him. The emotionless gaze pierced him. "Get on."

  "I'm going to the Inn and—"

  "Get the fuck on the bike." He kicked the motorcycle into neutral and revved the engine.

  Her chest rose and fell. She threw up her arms, shook her head, and then slipped on behind him. He waited until her arms came around his waist and he rode around the block.

  Tension, quickly followed by tremors, possessed her body as he rode around to the front of her building. He rushed her past the crowd and turned onto the back street.

  He'd barely parked behind Cleo's Coffee Cave and she jumped off his bike to get away from touching him. Grabbing her hand, he led her up to his apartment.

  Inside the living room, he left the door open and spoke to Jacko. "Get out."

  Jacko grabbed a duffel bag by the front door. "I'll be at Lola's if you need me."

  The door shut.

  "Sit down." Merk walked over and shut all three windows, cutting out the outside noise.

  When he turned around, Desi still stood by the door. He walked over, grabbed her hand, led her to the couch, and set her down. Either she refused to have anything to do with him or the shock of having her building blown up finally hit her.

  He walked to the fridge. Beer and water were the only things available. He grabbed a water bottle and returned to her. Pushing the bottle into her hand, he waited for her to throw the water at him or tell him to get the fuck away from her.

  Instead, she sat motionless staring at the coffee table and the empty liquor bottles littering the floor. He nudged Jim Beam with the toe of his boot.

  She rubbed her thumb on the cap of the bottle. "When is Jacko coming back?"

  The monotone soft voice held no emotion confusing him more The back of his head throbbed. Her body, held stiff and curved away from him, spoke volumes. She wanted him to reassure her and he had nothing left to say. The time for sugarcoating everything ran out when Reds blew up her building

  "He'll show up when you leave." He walked behind the couch and sa
t in the large windowsill.

  From his view, he could watch her without looking at her eyes. Eyes that continued to make his life hell.

  "I left my purse and phone in the building. I need to go out and talk to the sheriff and let him know how to contact me. I'll go stay with Katie—"

  "You're not leaving." He waited for her to argue and when nothing came, he scratched his beard at a loss.

  All these years he had ideas on how to extract payment from her. It seemed easy to sweep into her life, fuck her over until she fell in love with him, and then force her to spend the next twelve years with him.

  He never planned to care for her, only enjoy what she could give him. His mistake cost him. To protect her from the truth and any further hurt, he needed to carry on the charade. The truth would devastate her and wipe away the family she held on to since birth.

  She'd never be the green-eyed girl who at one time thought he was one of the good guys.

  "Once you hear from the inspector, you can get a bid for the repairs on the building." He walked in front of her and sat on the coffee table.

  "Pop never had insurance on the building and there's no extra money to pay for the repairs. The pot I have from gambling wouldn't be enough. Pop lost big time before he died, and I used what money I'd saved from pool to pay for his cremation and plot on the memorial wall." She inhaled deeply. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

  He leaned forward and held her knees. "Because I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

  "Are you going to kill me? Was the explosion your handiwork? At least tell me what your plans are for me now that I know who you are." She pushed up, but he held her down in front of him.

  "Fair enough." He studied the way her legs shook. "I have no plans to kill you, and no I fucking didn't blow up your building."

  She stopped struggling and crossed her arms. "Then why? You knew who I was and you played me. Are you looking for money?"

  He shook his head.

  "Damn you." She exhaled loudly. "I was thirteen years old when you killed my dad, and you're going to punish me now because you think I pointed at you and said 'he's the killer'?"

  He held her still and ignored her question. "You've never shown any anger over me ending your dad's life. Why?"

  "Because life wasn't nice when he was around," she said through clenched teeth. "Is that what you wanted to hear? I was happy I'd no longer have to live with him, and don't try to make me feel guilty for feeling that way."

  The pressure in his head eased. He still lacked the information he needed, but at least she understood her dad never won any awards for Father of the Year.

  "What was your big plan? Get out of prison, find the girl who mistakenly identified you to the sheriff, and make her fall in love with you...then what? Tell me why you had sex with me and didn't tell me who you were."

  He clenched his teeth together. She'd never understand how much her trust meant to him during that time in his life. She tormented his every thought, and made the years trickle by while all he had were three walls and a ten-foot section of bars to look at. He wasn't a fucking pervert. There was nothing sexual about his obsession with her, until he'd come with Jacko to the bar and found her all grown up.

  To confess all, he'd have to bring up his past, defile a promise he swore to keep, and in the process ruin Desi's life. He'd never hurt her that way. He wouldn't destroy an innocent person foolishly caught in the middle of business that had nothing to do with her.

  He'd let her believe he remained the bad guy who came back to make her pay. It was safer that way, and eventually he hoped she'd get over her hurt. A hurt that was repairable.

  "You owe me twelve years of my life that I lost sitting in prison." He tilted his head. "And, you're going to stay with me for the next twelve years to pay me back."

  She slapped out at him, making contact with his arms, his chest. He let her get up from the couch. "That's not happening. I'll tell the sheriff what you're doing. You're a felon, and what you want is...is..."

  "You," he said.

  "You're mental." She laughed, on the verge of hysteria. "You can't force me to stay with you."

  "I can."

  "No, you can't." Her face flushed. "As soon as you turn around, I'm leaving."

  "I can't let you do that." He approached her. "We don't need to make this ugly. You were under me, enjoying having my cock in your body. I'm not going to get tired of that anytime soon, Desi. All you have to do is stay with me."

  She shook her head. "First chance I get, I'll tell the sheriff what you're doing. My building blew up and Sheriff Colby will be in constant contact with me until they figure out what is going on. I'll have an opportunity to tell him what you're doing to me soon."

  He walked across the room, picked up the duffel where he kept all his clothes and personal belongings, and removed an envelope. "You won't say anything, to anyone, because you won't want to lose everything Joe left you."

  She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  "I have enough evidence in my hand documenting your illegal gambling going back to when you were ten years old and swindling old men out of their money. Luckily, Joe kept a running record of every win and the amount you've brought in to the bar until the day he died. It'll make it easy for the Feds to lock you up for a few years after seeing how you and Joe made over two million dollars together without paying taxes."

  "Give me that." She stepped forward, reaching out her hand.

  He held the envelope over his shoulder. "I doubt if you'll get anything close to twelve years in the pen, but let me make something clear with you. When you find yourself in prison, it won't be winning pool games you remember or Joe's eagerness to see you win or guilt over being caught breaking the law. The only thing you'll think about is me. You'll hate me. You'll wish you killed me. You won't sleep. You won't fucking take a shower without remembering how I look at this minute as I rip your world apart. You're mine for the next twelve years, Desi. Unless you think prison will be more comfortable for you."

  She turned away and muttered, "This isn't happening."

  "Feel free to take the envelope. These are copies. The originals are safely stored with Moroad Motorcycle Club. The same way you're going to be safe now that you're Moroad property. I'll go after Reds for you and make sure your future is secure. I'll pay for the repairs on your building and once the sheriff gives us the okay to move back above the bar, I'll be sleeping in your bed for the next fucking twelve years." He tossed the envelope onto the coffee table.

  Desi flinched. His body vibrated. He wanted to comfort her, but he'd already let her see too much. Blackmailing her was the only way he could buy the time to protect her from what her dad put into motion. If Reds got ahold of her, they'd sell her to Los Li, and she'd be smuggled into Mexico to become a sex slave.

  He had to protect her, even if in the process she ended up hurt. Nothing compared to what the truth would do to her if she found out the reason behind him coming to the bar so many years ago.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Merk stood behind Desiree, holding her hips and keeping her close. She trembled, flooded with fear. Acutely aware of everyone from the fire inspector to the sheriff to Katie watching her, she kept her chin firmly planted, giving nothing away. The temptation to scream the injustice of Merk forcing her to remain compliant to his wishes left her fragile and filled with anxiety.

  She'd never survive prison. Pop worked himself to death holding on to the bar and making it possible for her to keep on providing for herself. She'd be damned if she'd lose everything because Merk played dirty.

  "Structurally, the foundation is intact. The only damage is to the front windows and there's a hairline crack in the bricks above the front door." The fire inspector removed his gloves and flipped the paper on his clipboard. "The rest is personal property damage, which we've listed here for your insurance company."

  "I-I don't have insurance." She swayed, stopping her fall against Merk's hard body.

&n
bsp; As much as she never wanted to see Merk again, she was thankful he stood behind her, holding her up.

  The inspector removed the papers and handed them over. "We've removed the device that caused the explosion and will be testing it for prints, parts, and doing our own investigating."

  "What was it?" Desiree cleared her throat. "I mean, how did the explosion happen?"

  "The short answer...a bottle rocket. We'll know more on the level of power used in a couple of weeks after the lab looks at everything." The inspector nodded at Merk and walked away.

  Her neck pulsed. How would she earn a living with the bar destroyed?

  "I'll have Moroad come out and plywood up the windows and secure the front door. If you want to go upstairs to your apartment while I make a phone call, go ahead. I'm staying here to make sure nothing else happens." He leaned down and placed his lips on her ear. "I can tell Katie wants to talk with you. Do I need to remind you not to mention our arrangement?"

  She shook her head and stepped away.

  Backed into a corner, her options to escape Merk dwindled to nothing, unless she wanted to end up in prison and lose the bar. She grabbed Katie's outstretched hand and walked inside the building.

  On the main floor, broken tables and chairs littered the room. Bottles lay scattered all over the floor, broken and nasty smelling. She shook her head in disbelief at the stained hardwood floors. The damage worse than she thought, it'd take a miracle to repair everything.

  "Think positive." Katie wrapped her arm around Desiree's waist. "The building can be repaired and your living quarters upstairs are undamaged."

  "Nothing will ever be the same." Desiree's throat filled with emotion and choked her.

  "It'll get better. Everything is a shock at first." Katie squeezed her. "Just think, you can decorate anyway you want with new furniture. The tables were old, Desiree. Most of them wobbled."

  "The customers never complained."

  Katie smiled. "They wouldn't say a word, because they come here for the atmosphere and their love for you. You've given many people a home over the years. Look at how many men sit at the bar every night, have a few conversations, and walk out happier. It's not the material things or the beer keeping them coming back. It's you that matters to them."