Enforcer's Price

by Sarah Hawthorne

  Unlike me. I was still hoping that Colt would show up. I was trying to teach that lesson to my daughter, but I still hadn’t learned it myself.

  Becky sulked on the couch and watched cartoons. Her little feet, encased in tap shoes and tied with a huge bow, moved constantly. During the commercials, she would race to the window and peek out. Nothing.

  “Honey, it’s 3:35. Why don’t you go change into pants and we can go to the playground?”

  A knock sounded at our door.

  It had to be him. He hadn’t forgotten. It was like a punch to the heart. He hadn’t forgotten, he was a good guy, or at least trying.

  I dropped my dishtowel and walked around the counter, but Becky beat me to it. She jumped over the back of the couch and screeched all the way to the door. Even though she wasn’t supposed to, she opened the front door wide.

  He stood in my doorway wearing faded jeans and a long-sleeved shirt under his cut. My knees melted, but my body was on fire. A chain dangled down his hip and disappeared into his pants pocket. He took off his aviator sunglasses and bent down to greet Becky.

  “You ready to head out?”

  “I knew you’d come!” Becky threw her arms around him and gave him a hug. She could be shy or outgoing. It depended on whether or not she liked the person, and she liked Colt.

  He looked up at me. He knew I told Becky he wouldn’t come. His stare was cold. Not angry, just cold. Somehow that was worse. Anger would mean he at least cared about me. My stupid heart wanted him to still care about me, even though I had been so cruel last night. But instead he was cold. It was more crushing than loud words or angry insults could ever be.

  He looked back to Becky and gave her a big smile. “I could never forget my best girl! All right, come on. We’re already running late.” He looked up at me as though I were an insignificant stranger. “You got directions for me?”

  No. I didn’t have directions ready for a guy who wasn’t going to show up—even though it was going to be awkward after I had rejected him, I had to go too. I couldn’t let him just take my kid off to dance lessons without me.

  I knew that he was only interested in keeping his promise to Becky. Any feelings for me had ended when I kicked him out of my room. But damn, I couldn’t stop myself from watching him. He looked so dangerous and sexy at my doorstep. He lifted my daughter for a hug and I could see muscles of his arm straining against his T-shirt.

  I shivered. “I’m going with you.”

  For once, I was glad to have Becky chattering on as we drove. She was sandwiched between us and so excited that she just couldn’t keep still to save her life.

  Dance class was about a ten-minute drive. By the time we arrived, we were late and the girls were already working on their warm-up exercises. Becky flew up the sidewalk and into class, leaving Colt and me standing on the sidewalk.

  “Um, so the class is an hour. You can go get a coffee or something. You don’t have to stay.” I shrugged and turned to go inside.

  “I promised to stay and watch.”

  He opened the door for me and we went inside. I led him into the viewing area, a sectioned-off part of the dance studio with big windows so the parents could watch their kids. Metal folding chairs were all lined up facing the windows. Those chairs held three of the moms I had gone to pizza with a few months ago.

  All three perfectly dyed and teased heads turned to face us as we walked in. Then all three perfectly lipsticked mouths smiled wide as we sat down.

  Carrie was the first one to advance. She slid over until she was sitting next to Colt. “Hi! I’m Carrie, Dakota’s mom. Are you Krista’s new boyfriend?”

  Oh yeah, she played the innocent, all big eyes and easy smiles. She looked at me and then back to him, trying to gauge reactions to her comment.

  “I’m Krista and Becky’s friend.”

  Ouch. He had to include my daughter. Because, of course, she was the only reason he was here. If Becky hadn’t asked him to come, he wouldn’t give a single shit about me. I couldn’t blame him—I had asked for it. But it still hurt to hear it.

  The music started, blaring through the speakers overhead. Becky and the rest of the little girls started dancing to one of the songs from The Wizard of Oz. It was a cute dance, lots of skipping on an imaginary yellow brick road. Last week we practiced on the sidewalk in front of the apartment. Her skip had really improved—she was the best one up there. About a month ago, the instructor had pulled me aside and said that she really had talent.

  Colt watched the little girls with rapt attention. It surprised me. I thought the big scary biker would bring out a magazine about motorcycle parts or something. But no. He watched all of it. The only time his expression changed was when Becky made a mistake. But, she recovered the steps and he turned to give me a quick smile.

  “So, how long have you two been dating?” It was break time and Marcie joined Carrie on the seats next to Colt. The cavalry was here.

  “Two months.” I didn’t think, I just answered. He was probably laughing at me for lying, but I wanted just this moment for myself. I wanted to pretend he loved me.

  Yeah, I’m insecure. Just this once, I didn’t want their pity or their advice on how to catch a man. But most of all, I wanted to pretend to be his girlfriend. It was the closest I would ever get to the real thing, so I was going to snatch this opportunity with both hands.

  He smiled. I had given myself away. He’d known I was going to answer that question and play the girlfriend card.

  Carrie and Marcie squealed and got up to give me a hug. “You know, we’ve been so worried about her not dating. It’s not healthy. A girl her age, so pretty, she should have a man.” Carrie showed her teeth in what was supposed to be a smile.

  Was that an insult? I wasn’t sure and didn’t know what to say. While I was tripping over my own tongue, Colt stepped in. “Yeah, not sure how I got so lucky. A gorgeous woman, great kid. As soon as I found out she was single, I made her mine.”

  He grabbed my hand and squeezed while Carrie and Marcie swooned. They weren’t the only ones. Just holding his hand felt amazing. Warm and secure. He squeezed it again, to emphasize the little joke we were sharing. I was torturing myself. I never should have started this game.

  “So, what do you do?” Carrie asked.

  I wondered what she was going to say when Colt explained that he was a member of a motorcycle club.

  “Investments, mostly. I work from home and trade a lot. I like everything from commodities to mutual funds to currency. Anything I can flip fast and make money on.”

  Jaws dropped. Including mine. My biker just pretended to be some kind of day trader? I gave his hand a squeeze to acknowledge this new joke of ours. But he didn’t squeeze back.

  “Oh, from your vest I thought you were a biker.”

  “I’m that too.”

  That stumped everyone, including me, and we went back to watching the end of the class. He didn’t move his hand. I counted time under my breath as the teacher instructed the moves for the girls to practice at home. I needed to know those moves too so I could help her rehearse.

  Once they were done, the girls burst into the observation room.

  “Mr. Colt, did you see me? I messed up.”

  He picked Becky up and put her on his lap. “I thought you did real good.”

  Becky told Colt all about the dance class as he helped her untie her tap shoes. God, if only this had been real. If only he had squeezed my hand because he loved me, not because he was telling a lie. I finished up some chitchat with Marcie and went back.

  “Mommy, Mr. Colt said we could go to a restaurant for dinner! I want strawberry ice cream!”

  I sighed. Becky had only been to a handful of restaurants in her whole life. We’d never had the money before, and now that I was working for the club, I just didn’t have th
e time.

  Today was my day off. My car would be fixed tomorrow and then there would be no more excuses for me to see Colt. No more rides in the brown truck, no more hand squeezes or stolen kisses. God, had I really told him no last night?

  If one last night out was all I had with him, I was going to take it.

  “Sure, sweetie, we can go wherever he wants.”

  Colt and I looked at each other. His cold gaze was gone, replaced by something warmer. Baby steps, right?

  We ended up at Denny’s. Becky had pancakes with strawberries on top, I had a salad, and Colt had an omelet. It was all very normal. When Becky’s mouth was full of strawberries, I sneaked in my own question for him. “So, what you said in there earlier, was it true? About the investments?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. I got a few things. How about you? Anything going besides the bartending for the club?”

  How nice of him to use that euphemism in front of Becky. Bartending. He was asking me how long I planned to be a whore.

  “Mommy went to school, like me. But she graduated.” Becky had devoured her strawberries and was back to full motormouth mode.

  Colt looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

  “I got my associate’s in accounting.” I stared at my salad and picked at the hard-boiled egg.

  “That’s great.”

  I looked at him, afraid of what I would see. He was finishing up his food and waiting for me to respond. No eye rolls or sarcastic comments. Nothing. He just looked interested, so I continued. “Yeah. I do most of the bookkeeping for the bar. The guys’ tabs, working with the alcohol distributor, that kind of thing, but Bear does everything else.”

  “I heard you helped Tate handle club business.”

  He’d lost all interest in his omelet. It was almost like he was trying to see into my soul. I shivered.

  “I just filled in a little after Torque died, that’s all. Then Bear took the job.”

  The intensity of his gaze was just a little off-putting. I wasn’t sure what he was asking with that question. Was he trying to be nice and ask for my price list? Maybe trying to see if Tate took a cut?

  I’d pretended Colt was my boyfriend and even told myself that it might happen. Gave myself reason to hope. These motorcycle guys wouldn’t take a whore for their old lady and it was stupid to even try. I had seen the other old ladies at parties. Sure, they dressed in sexy clothes—not like me, but still pretty skimpy. But that’s where the similarities ended. They were old ladies, and I was a whore. I needed to remember that.

  “Mommy, I gotta go.”

  I was glad to escape this conversation. Becky and I got up and trooped to the ladies’ room. We finished up in the bathroom while Colt paid the check. It was a short trip home, but Becky managed to explain the entire plot of The Wizard of Oz. I was glad to see the parking lot, but that also meant that my time with Colt was ending.

  We passed my car on the way to my apartment. “They’re fixing the glass on my car in a couple of days. We appreciate the rides, but I can handle it from here on out. Thanks for helping us. You’ve been real great to Becky.” I smiled.

  Well, this was it. Last night had been the big denial. He had put himself out there and I shot him down. Tonight was the big goodbye. I wasn’t going to let myself linger or try to hold his hand again. I needed to just end this and say goodbye. Stop torturing myself.

  He nodded, but said nothing.

  “Mommy, can Mr. Colt stay and watch the Wizard with me? I want to show him the Emerald City.”

  I ruffled her hair as we walked in the door. “Honey, Mr. Colt probably needs to work. He’s a very busy man. Why don’t you go take off your dance clothes and change into jammies? I’ll put on the Wizard, and you and I can watch it.”

  Becky skipped off and I heard the door close behind me. Turning, I realized that Colt had followed us in. I thought for sure he would have just turned and left.

  I slung my bag over the kitchen chair and started to put away dishes from the drying rack. Trying to keep this normal. What did he want? Why was he still in my house?

  “You need to stop that.”

  I put some glasses in the cabinet. “Putting dishes away?” I peeked around the cupboard door.

  “You don’t let me answer Becky. She asks me questions and you answer her instead of letting me.”

  “Oh, I just thought you’d be sick of her questions by now. I’m sure you want to head out and she keeps asking you to come back.”

  He ran his fingers through his buzz cut. “Let me answer when she asks a question. I haven’t been around kids much, but when someone asks me for help, I want to answer them myself. Even though she’s a kid, she still deserves an answer from me. It’s respect.”

  I dropped one of Becky’s plastic cups. It hit the porcelain sink and rattled around. I felt like the cup, bouncing from one side of my heart to the other. Why did he keep surprising me like this? He surprised me on the porch that first night. I’d never thought a biker would ask a whore to try a relationship. Not just a private weekend, but an actual relationship. Then, when I tried to push him away, he gave me space, but he was still here. Now he wanted to talk to my six-year-old daughter. He didn’t just tolerate her chatter, he listened to her and wanted to answer her.

  “Um, okay. Yeah, sure. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what I was doing. It’s just that most men don’t really care what she has to say.”

  “I guess I’m not most men.”

  How had I gotten so close to him? The dishtowel was still in my hand, but I had walked a few steps and was standing close enough to touch him. With my mouth on his mouth. Just a little kiss, not much just a little one.

  There was no stopping this. Things would turn bad between him and me. Sure, it would be amazing for a few weeks, but then we’d break up. My heart would be broken, my kid’s heart would be broken, all of my dreams crushed.

  He was from California and I lived here in Washington. He was a biker, I was a whore. I had no idea how the relationship part would work between us. But I knew I had to find out. I would regret it more if I didn’t try again.

  He leaned closer and grabbed the dishtowel out of my hand, tossing it onto the counter.

  I swallowed and my heart pounded. I wanted him to kiss me, make me feel the way I had back at the clubhouse. Back before my reality rushed in.

  His finger traced across my cheek and down my shoulder, inching the neckline of my T-shirt down so that the strap of my bra was exposed. I could feel his breath hot against my skin.

  “Did Robby give you these bruises?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Colt

  She’d wanted me to kiss her. Fuck. It was hard as hell taking my hand off her neck when she was almost purring like a damn cat. But she’d said no. I would always remember that.

  She straightened her shirt and glared at me. “Look, it’s nothing. All he wanted is money. Same as always.”

  I stepped back and leaned against the counter. “Let me take care of him, all you need to do is give me his address.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’ll just have a discussion with him, man to man. Nothing permanent.”

  The fucker deserved permanent. Permanent relocation to somewhere behind bars, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I’d be more than happy to arrange that.

  Becky chose that exact minute to come rushing into the kitchen. Damn, that kid had some timing. “Mr. Colt, stay and watch the Wizard with us.”

  Shit. “I can’t. I got some business tonight for the club.”

  She frowned and looked just like her mama. “What are you gonna do?”

  Krista and I looked at each other over the top of Becky’s head. She was just a little girl and didn’t know the rules. A club member never discussed what he did for the club. That rule was pretty much universal everywhere.
I sure as shit couldn’t explain to the kid that I was gonna visit a high-end chop shop to make sure Tate’s business was still flowing.

  “I gotta work, Becks. Just like your mama. She goes to work, right?”

  Becky nodded. Okay, she got it.

  Keeping people in the dark about club business was for their protection, as well as our own. I’d fucked that up with Tina and look where it had gotten me and my brothers. I needed a woman who understood. Of course, I also needed a woman who wanted to fuck me.

  “Come over tomorrow and we can watch the Wizard. Please?”

  She was cute as a goddamn button, but she knew what she wanted and she went after it. Too bad her mom wasn’t the same way.

  “Maybe. I don’t know, Becks. I’ll try.” I smiled, but I hated giving her such a shitty answer. “I gotta go. Can’t be late for work.”

  Becky talked about dance class and about me coming over tomorrow to watch The Wizard of Oz as they both followed me to the door. When I was turning to leave, Krista stopped.

  “Hey.” She took a scrap of paper out of her pocket and handed it to me.

  Robby’s address. I just nodded and shoved the paper in my pockets. Now wasn’t a time for promises. She didn’t want to hear it and I didn’t want to say it.

  “See ya.”

  * * *

  The auto shop was cleaner than most hospitals. A bright yellow Lambo was up on the rack and something German was idling in a corner. They were testing its exhaust, making sure it passed smog.

  “They gotta pass smog first time, every time,” Tate explained. “If not, they start taking a closer look. Even though they’re newer vehicles, if their electronics aren’t tuned just right, the computer system will throw it back. We can’t risk too many people looking at our paperwork.”

  Yeah, if someone looked closely at the vehicle’s paperwork they might notice it was a forgery. A good one, but a forgery nonetheless. The cars, everything from the Lamborghini to antique Jags, came in on the boats. Tate and his greaseball at the docks got them through customs and then they came here, to this shop. The boys made sure they were all ready to go to get real paperwork through the state. Real plates, real pink slips, real fucking money all in Tate’s hands.