Someone put a hand on my shoulder. Shit. I spun to see the intruder.
It was a black woman, petite, gorgeous and new—I hadn’t seen her before. “Didn’t mean to scare ya, just got on my shift.”
Rip was slouched in a chair in the hall. Usually guard duty was the job of the prospects, but it seemed Krista was a special case. The guys were all sharing the duty. Everyone except me. I’d spent the last four hours next to her bed, waiting for Krista to wake up. From my shitty reaction time to the nurse’s entry, it was a damn good thing I wasn’t a guard. I was fucking tired to the bone.
“So, you’re family then? Or one of her guards?” The nurse blinked at me, waiting for an answer.
Was I family? I had no clue. Krista was so small, covered in hospital blankets with beeping machines around her. This wasn’t her—Krista was alive. She danced with Becky, she laughed with the guys, she made love to me. I loved her.
I’d loved Tina too. But it had been different, more shallow. My love for Tina had never seeped into my bones and taken over my soul. Maybe that was why Tina had betrayed me.
“Uh, family. She’s my girl.”
The nurse flicked her long braids over her shoulder and made a note in the chart. “So you’re, uh...” She flipped through the chart. “Bartholomew Coulter?”
I cringed. I had to fill out all the paperwork when we first got to the hospital. I’d listed myself on the form as her significant other.
“Colt.”
“Well, then go home, Colt. Take care of yourself until she wakes up. It’s gonna be a while. She’s on so many sedatives, she’d sleep through the apocalypse. And she’s gonna. That much meth would feel like the end of her world if she was awake right now. Go home and take care of things there. You’ll need to take care of her when she gets out of here. Come back in about twelve hours.”
I watched Krista’s face. She was safe, asleep but safe. Tests had shown the needle had been clean and she was gonna be okay. Becky had a few bruises, but was pretty much unhurt. Rip had dropped her off at Señora Lopez’s apartment.
I started to get up, but the nurse hooked her fingers under my arm and hauled me upright.
“Come on, baby. Go home. Take care of yourself so you can take care of your girl.”
* * *
I got on my bike and rode. As the interstate disappeared under my tires, I just kept repeating to myself: Take care of yourself so you can take care of your girl. I had to face the music in California before I could do anything else.
I hit I-5 and rode and rode and rode until my entire body was numb. Finally I dropped down Cajon Pass and into the bright lights of Southern California. I rode through the cities, through the smog and the traffic, through the high-walled freeways covered in graffiti, through the concrete and asphalt that was home.
On the way, I had been receiving text messages from Hawkeye. They were holding a special summit with all the chapters at Volk’s cabin in Big Bear. Instead of going to the club, I went straight to the cabin where everyone was gathered. It was time to give my recommendation about the Kings. I would give my report and the fate of the Kings would be decided by Volk and all the presidents of the chapter clubs.
Volk’s cabin was located down a private dirt road in the mountains. Thirty or so bikes lined his driveway as I pulled in. I was late. Shit.
I hauled ass inside and found the door to the dining room that was functioning as the chapel. This was the first time I’d been invited to a meeting with all the chapter presidents. I knocked on the door.
The dull roar of voices on the other side of the doors quieted. “Name?” someone commanded.
“Colt. San Berdoo.”
The doors opened and the guys let me in. Pretty soon everyone was introducing themselves to me. It was all the presidents from all the chapters. This was the big yearly business meeting. After all the shit that went down in Tacoma, I had forgotten all about it. I nodded, shook hands with all the top guys. Fuck, I wanted to sleep. I lost track of how many hours I’d been awake.
Once introductions had been made, Volk cleared his throat. “Colt, why don’t you fill us in on your adventures up north.”
Shit, they were all staring at me. I made it quick.
“The Storm Kings wash counterfeit cash and they had a member who was stealing the bills and using them as his own. Bear, the member who was stealing, took a little off the top and then used it to start his private operation as a loan shark. We set a trap for him to steal more of the club money. Sure enough, he fell for it. It ended in a gunfight and he’s dead, along with a junkie meth head who got in the way.”
Every man was quiet. Now that the rundown was over, it was time for my recommendation.
“The Kings are flawed, but good guys. Tate had an idea that the skimmer was someone from within the club, not their supply chain. He brought us in for two reasons. One, he wanted the support a larger club can bring.” Heads nodded around the table. We all knew clubs were consolidating. “Two, he knew he would need extra support to get rid of the skimmer if it was in fact a brother. They have some good investments, and their money is solid now. They’ve gotten rid of their traitor.” I shrugged. “They’re doing well.”
Volk stood up and walked me to the door. Just like that, it was done. I’d given my report and now everyone else would decide the fate of the Storm Kings. “Hang around in the office, we have some decisions. We may want to call you in for more discussion.”
I nodded and wandered around the living room. There was a nice arrangement of fake plants on the coffee table and family photos on the fireplace mantel. Volk had a wife. I’d seen her a few times. Would Krista want to live this life? Meetings and club business?
After about twenty minutes, I sat on the couch and went to sleep. I dreamed about watching movies with Krista and Becky snuggled next to me. I had no idea how long I slept before someone shook me awake.
Pizza boxes, beer bottles and cigar stubs littered the council table. I must have been out a while before they woke me. Volk indicated an empty chair. “Sit down at the table with us, Colt.”
Everyone’s face was passive. There was a newcomer at the table. I’d only seen him once before—Gerald Englestein. He was the head of the club’s legal team. He didn’t handle my weapons charge, too small-time. It went to one of his lackeys. What the fuck was going on?
“We like your report on the Kings,” Volk began. “I think it shows insight and maturity. There’s a sergeant at arms spot open in your own chapter.”
I nodded. Fatso had retired last year and left the spot vacant. We all assumed that Hawkeye just didn’t intend to fill it.
“We’d like to offer you the position.”
I drummed my fingertips on the table, trying to determine if I was still asleep. The mother chapter of the Demon Horde was offering me a position as an officer?
I looked around at the guys at the table. Two weeks ago, if they had offered me this position, I would have jumped at the chance. But now everything was different. I loved Krista. It was life-changing, and my life was definitely gonna change.
“I have another idea,” I said.
If I was dreaming, I was gonna dream big.
Chapter Forty-Two
Krista
“Becky?” My throat burned as I tried to wring sound out of my vocal cords.
“Hey, girl. Drink this.” It was Skeeter. He held a cup up to my lips and the water put out the burning in my throat. “Becky’s okay. She’s with the old Mexican lady. Just lean back, okay? You can see her tonight.”
Señora Lopez. Becky was with Señora Lopez. I leaned back on the pillows. She was okay. I needed to hug her, check her over, count her toes.
A nurse poked her head in and looked at me. “Well, look who’s awake. How you doing, baby?”
The woman came over and too
k my pulse. She nodded and made a note on her clipboard.
I spent the next hour with doctors and nurses. The meth was causing withdrawals. My entire body itched and I alternately wanted to sleep or run. Mostly I wanted to run to Colt, but he wasn’t there. Skeeter was there. He held my hand the whole time, but he wasn’t Colt. I burned to ask Skeeter where Colt was. I just had to know.
When my eyes drooped, the nurse left the room and it was just Skeeter and me.
“Colt?”
“Just lay back, okay? Close your eyes.”
My brain wasn’t functioning enough to form words. My entire body hurt and all I could do was lie back and close my eyes. Sleep crawled inside my brain. I would ask more about him when I woke up.
I woke up over and over, but Colt was never there.
* * *
Nearly two weeks later and Colt still hadn’t called. I’d been home from the hospital for six days. The club knew my attending physician and he never reported my condition to the cops. Thank god.
It looked like I was just a convenient fuck while Colt was in town. Now that he was back in California, he forgot all about me. Well, screw him. Most of what happened between us had been heartbreak anyway.
Tate assigned a constant rotation of the three prospects to watch over me. The youngest prospect had let slip that Colt was in California, but that’s all I knew.
The smell of burning wafted in from the kitchen and Becky and I looked up from our animal-themed crossword puzzle. The prospect assigned for tonight’s shift was in the process of ruining dinner. The fire detector started to shriek.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” The prospect was fanning the blackened sandwich, as if that would help.
Running into the kitchen, I grabbed the skillet and plunged the whole thing into the sink. “You get the alarm.”
The stovetop was on high and glowed a cherry red. No wonder everything was black. I turned it off and ran water over what had been a grilled cheese.
The prospect, Roach, was just a kid. He couldn’t figure out to press the big blue button to turn off the alarm, so he ripped out the batteries and set the whole mess on the table.
“Look, I can make dinner, okay? Bear and Robby are gone, right? So I don’t need a guard anymore.”
The kid stared at me. “I, uh, well, Tate said I had to be here. I can wait outside, though.”
Roach settled himself on my new patio chairs while I dialed Tate. When Tate answered, I didn’t even bother with the hellos.
“I don’t want a guard anymore. This is ridiculous. I don’t need someone in my apartment every minute of the day. I appreciate your concern, but I’m done. I quit, remember? I start my new job tomorrow.”
The accounting firm heard that I was in the hospital and were nice enough to hold my job for me. I was excited to start my new job and live my new life. I couldn’t have someone from the club constantly hanging around and reminding me of Colt.
Tate was quiet on the other end of the phone and just let me do my tirade. Dammit. I was sounding like a bitch.
I took a deep breath and apologized. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I need my life back, okay?”
“It’s not my call. It’s his.”
His? Colt had ordered this watch over me? This was how he showed me that he cared? By ordering me under lock and key? I wanted to kiss him for caring, and yell at him for taking away my freedom. But I couldn’t because he wasn’t here and he never answered his goddamn phone. He had vanished from my life.
“If he wants to take care of me, he can start by picking up his fucking phone.”
The last word came out as a sob. He was choosing not to belong in my life. It was his choice. But either way, I couldn’t live with a prospect in my apartment constantly reminding me of him.
“You sure about that? The danger is over, but the prospects are there to make sure you have everything you need. The Kings will always be here for you, Krista. But this guard, it’s a favor for him. Are you sure you want to give up on it?”
I wanted to throw the phone. I couldn’t even break up with the guy in person. No, I had to do it through Tate. The Kings had been good to me, but I needed to be my own person. I needed to move on.
“Yeah. I want the prospects gone.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Krista
I was three weeks late with rent and my landlord hadn’t shown up to kick me out yet. I was feeling lucky. I had most of the cash, so I went to the bank to pick up the money order. Larry, the office guy, might accept a partial payment.
“Can you tell me my balance please?” I asked the teller.
She named an absurd amount of cash, and I groaned. There was no way I could have that much. The last time I had been to the bank, Robby had stolen my money. They’d obviously made a mistake.
“You sure you have the right account number?” I wrote it down for her.
The girl at the counter looked confused. “Yeah, looks like there was a big deposit about two weeks ago. But—it’s weird, I can’t see what account it came from. Let me get my manager. Why don’t you go sit down in her office?”
Bank error in my favor? I sat and waited. Becky dug all of the purple lollipops out of the candy dish. If my bank account really had that amount, all of my troubles would be over.
“Miss?” The manager sat down across from me at her desk. “We’ve reviewed your account. Do you know who would have deposited ten thousand dollars last Wednesday? It was through an anonymous wire transfer.”
I shrugged, confused. There was no way it was my cash. “It must have been a mistake.”
The manager tapped on some keys and looked at my account. “I can only research it to the country of origin. Do you know anyone in Grand Cayman?”
I shook my head. “The Caribbean? No. I don’t know anyone there.”
The bank manager looked dubious. “The account is set up so I can’t send the money back. Let’s just put it on hold. We’ll research it and let you know. If we can’t contact the corporation who sent it, then it’s yours.”
So it wasn’t my lucky day. The bank would research the charge, realize that deposit wasn’t intended for me and the money would disappear. I laughed to myself about the cruelty of the world. For once my bank account was flush—I just couldn’t use it.
* * *
I slipped the money order into the apartment office’s drop box to dodge my landlord. It was only half of what I owed and they usually didn’t accept a partial payment. Then I loaded Becky into the car and we headed off to Saturday dance class.
We were stopped at a red light when my phone buzzed. As always, my heart did a little leap. I looked down, hoping to see a California area code. But it was my landlord. Damn. They must have noticed I didn’t pay all of my rent. My first big paycheck would be in on Monday—they would just have to wait until then. I sent the call to voice mail.
The light turned green and I hit the gas. Once I got Becky to dance class, I’d figure out what to do, except my car didn’t move. Well, it tried, but it just lurched and wouldn’t accelerate. I coasted over to the shoulder.
I popped open the hood and looked. Of course, I had no idea what I was looking at. Nothing was on fire, no oil was gushing out of anything. My radiator used to overheat, but I’d gotten that fixed. Wiping my eyes, I stared again. It had to be something easy, something I could fix. I couldn’t afford a mechanic and I needed my car. Getting to work would be hours on the bus.
“Hey, it’s pretty hot. You probably shouldn’t touch that,” a voice said from behind me.
I snatched my hand back and turned to find a prospect. The moment I had car trouble, a prospect happened to ride by? I didn’t buy it.
“Roach?” I hoped that was his name.
He smiled and nodded, pleased that I’d remembered him.
“Tate never took you off security detail on me, did he?” I ignored my wreck of a car and crossed my arms over my chest.
Roach shrugged. “Tate said it wasn’t his call. Look, why don’t we get this towed back to the clubhouse? I’ll have someone bring the truck and you can drive that.”
Of course it wasn’t Tate’s call. Colt was the mastermind behind this security detail, but still wouldn’t call me.
Then it hit me. Maybe Colt was the mastermind behind my back account mix-up. He’d said he liked to play the stock market. Didn’t all of those traders keep their money offshore to avoid paying taxes?
I grabbed Roach’s cut. “Does Colt have a bank account in the Caymans?”
He stepped back, out of my grasp. “I don’t know anything about bank accounts. All I know is I’m supposed to stay out of sight and make sure you stay safe. That’s all I know.”
Covering my face with my hands, I held back the tears. Colt was trying to take care of me. But he didn’t care enough to actually talk to me. Did he feel obligated because we’d slept together? Did he feel sorry for me?
Once I got a hold of myself, I squared my shoulders and faced Roach. There was no way I could pay for anything, but I couldn’t take help from someone who didn’t love me back.
“I’ll have it towed to a garage and pay for my own repairs.”
* * *
Señora Lopez met me at the garage. The rope marks on her wrists had long since faded, but I think she still blamed herself a little for letting Robby in her apartment. She was glad to pick up Becky and take her home. So it was just me sitting on the dirty old couch in the waiting room while they looked at my car. Finally, they were done and the mechanic explained how a transmission worked. Then he explained why mine didn’t.
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