by Ruby Dixon
But that’s kind of how Dom and Gem like it. They like to surprise people by not being what everyone assumes.
We shoot the shit for a bit, talking about teams and sports and prospects for the club. No one ever gets straight to business, even though we all know it’s what we came here for. Eventually, though, it’s time to talk shop. “So what’s on your plate this week?” Muscle asks.
Gemini rubs his mouth. “Here’s the thing. You know that little mess we had with the gun runner that refused to work with us?”
“Can’t forget,” Muscle says. “Shame he skipped town, ain’t it.”
“Mmm,” Gem says.
We all know the truth. He didn’t skip town at all. We went to his place to take care of business and he drew a gun on us. Made it easy. His pieces are probably in a dozen coyote bellies at the moment.
And his guns? His guns are nice and safe with the Butchers arsenal.
“Seems he owed a shipment to an Arizona club. Hard Nine. And they think we’re responsible for missing the shipment.”
“Not our problem,” I say. I don’t give a shit if another club is trying to throw their weight around. We’re the biggest club in this territory and they can just go fuck themselves.
“It’s not, and normally we’d ignore it,” Dom says. “’Cept the Nine say they got something that will interest us, and they want a meet up. I offered to send Epic and Lock, and they insist on you guys.” He crosses his arms. “You care to tell me why?”
I shrug. I have no fucking idea.
Muscle rubs his neck. “Hard Nine. Sounds familiar. I think I’ve seen the cuts, but I don’t know anyone in the club. Why would they want us?”
Gemini. “That’s what’s bugging me about this. They’re demanding guns and money, and they want a meet up with you two.”
I exchange a look with Muscle. “When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“We’ll go,” I say. Because now I’m curious, too.
CHAPTER THREE
BEAST
The meet’s at a neutral location for both parties. We’re told that two of the Hard Nine are going to show up to pow wow with Muscle and I. The instructions are for an old abandoned supermarket off the highway. Makes sense. Private, lots of cement, not a lot of questions asked. Open area, too. The fact that it’s here in Albuquerque makes me curious, because I thought Hard Nine were Arizona.
I don’t like that they’ve got local boys. Then again, guess they didn’t ask me.
Our bikes purr into the parking lot at midnight. There’s two other bikes parked in the circle of yellow glow from a light pole, their riders still seated. I nod at Muscle, and we pull in toward the others, slowing down to meet them.
The two members of the Hard Nine club don’t get off their bikes when we pull in. We don’t either, since that’s the tone they’re setting. I don’t like it.
In fact, I don’t like any of this. I’m not good at this meet and greet shit. That’s where Muscle shines, so I’m going to let him do the talking.
We park our bikes and Muscle lifts his chin, hands on his ape hangers. “Howdy, boys. Heard you wanted a meet up.”
One of the Hard Nine lights a cigarette, cupping his hand around the flame. “You want a smoke?”
Muscle raises a hand to decline, and I shake my head.
The guy shrugs and takes a long drag on his cigarette. He looks young to me. Maybe twenty-five, max, with shaggy hair, and I don’t know him from Adam. Never seen him in my life. His buddy has a shaved head with tattoos on his skull of flames, several piercings, and when his lip curls back, I see he’s got a broken tooth in front.
Muscle leans back on his bike, arms crossed. Points at himself. “Muscle.” Gestures at me. “That’s Beast. You wanted to see us?”
The smoker takes a puff on his cigarette and then pinches it, pulling away from his mouth. “Name’s Scorpion. This here’s Rocket.”
The kid with the shaven head nods.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Ten bucks says they got their names from video games. Then again, who am I to judge…Nah, fuck that. I’m totally judging. “So what do you boys want?”
“Can’t we have a friendly meet and greet with a local club?”
Muscle snorts. “If this was a friendly meet and greet, we wouldn’t be here in a fucking parking lot at midnight, would we?”
Rocket just grins. Scorpion keeps on smoking.
“We had a business partner here in King City. Name of Bernie. Worked through his pawn shop. He showed up missing a couple weeks ago. We started asking around and it seems that he had a run in with a few of the Bedlam Butchers a few weeks before he disappeared. You boys know anything about that?”
“Can’t say that I do.” Muscle turns and looks at me, all cockiness. “You, Beast?”
“Nope.”
We’re used to the shake down from other clubs, of course. Word gets around, and sometimes word on the street is a lot more potent than what actually happens. For all we know, the story has it that Bernie came after the Butchers for stealing his old lady and we retaliated. Which isn’t true, but hey, it works as well as anything else.
“What kinda business?” Muscle asks, all casual. “Drugs?”
“Guns,” Rocket says. “He owed us a lot of guns.”
“Well now, that’s a shame he ran out on you guys.”
“Thing is, we don’t think he ran out,” Scorpion says, voice low and focused. He flicks his cigarette. “We think the Butchers got rid of him. Two Butchers in particular.”
“That’s a mighty interesting speculation you got there,” Muscle comments. He doesn’t look concerned. I’m not, either. If this was a run and gun, we’d already be dead. There’s an angle here I’m not getting. I hope they spit it out, soon. I hate beating around the bush.
“We’re not here to name names,” Scorpion says, and reaches into his pocket. I tense, wondering if I read him wrong. But he pulls out a small blue USB stick. “This’ll tell everyone everything they need to know.”
I frown. I have no idea what the hell that is. Information?
“What’s that?” Muscle asks, and we’re on the same wavelength.
“Apparently Bernie had a security system. Seems like it was shut down the night he went missing.”
Of course it was. Me and Muscle aren’t stupid. We know how to take someone out and not leave evidence.
Scorpion waggles the stick in front of us. “Seemed like ol’ Bernie was a paranoid fuck. Had the room tagged in more than one place, and the camera feeds were uploaded to a secure account online. Got some mighty interesting footage here.” He tilts his head at us. “See, that’s how we know you two aren’t innocent. Got your faces right here on camera.”
A slow, hot dread comes over me. If what they’re saying is true, we’re fucked. I can feel the color draining from my face, though I don’t change expressions. Prison taught me that.
I thought I was done with prison. Sounds like maybe not.
Fuck.
“Here,” he says, and holds the stick out. “Take it. We have extras.”
Muscle shoots me a look, then reaches out and snatches the USB stick. He pockets it. “So what is this? A shakedown?”
Rocket grins, and I want to smash a fist into his gap-toothed face. Scorpion’s eyes just narrow. “More or less. Hard Nine wants the guns that were due to us.”
“Do we look like we’ve got your guns?” Muscle spreads his arms.
“No, but I’m willing to bet that the Butchers have them. We want them back. They belong to us.”
Muscle shrugs, feigning indifference I know he doesn’t feel. I know I’m ready to start pounding faces, but I can’t. I have to know what they have on us first. And I have to know what they intend to do with it. “I’m sure we can work out a deal,” Muscle says. “Tell us what your price is and we’ll bring it back.”
“Oh, we want the guns in exchange for what we have on film,” Scorpion says. “We’re not paying a fucking dollar.”
I grit my teeth. I know that isn’t going to fly with Gem and Dom, but we’re fucked if what they’re saying’s on film is really on film.
“In addition, we want something else. Or at least, I do.” Scorpion grins.
Rocket snickers.
“What?” I grit out.
He tosses his cigarette away. “One of the old ladies in your club. I want her. However I want her, whenever I want her. Sweet little blonde with a stutter. She’s mine until I get tired of her.”
I growl. Red surges before my eyes.
At the same time, Muscle stiffens and clenches his fists. “You goddamn son of a bitch.”
“Oh, is she yours?” Scorpion’s smile is thin and ugly. “I must have missed that part. The offer stands, though. The bitch, and the guns, and we’ll trade our info.”
“No fucking deal,” I grit out.
“No? I know a few cops who’d be real interested in seeing this information. Seems Bernie’s missed by a few people.” He traces a finger down his cheek, mimicking a tear.
I grind my teeth so hard I’m surprised they don’t shatter in my mouth. That fucking asshole. He’ll touch Shy over my dead body. I went to jail for my club before. Even if it kills my soul, I’ll go to jail for my girl.
This fucking cocksucker’s never going to touch her.
“Shy’s not on the table,” Muscle says. “Forget that.”
“You’ve heard my offer,” Scorpion says. “That offer goes for all of the Hard Nine. You have a week to produce the guns and the girl. If she isn’t in my bed on Saturday with her legs spread, we go to the police.”
I leap off my bike, heading for Scorpion’s throat. I’m going to cram those cigarettes down his goddamn smug throat—
Muscle dismounts and grabs me before I can lay hands on Scorpion. He holds me back, though I nearly plow through him, too. It’s grimly satisfying to see both Hard Nine boys flinch backward. Scorpion starts his bike. “One week,” he calls out, and then they drive away.
I’m left stewing in rage. My shoulders heave and I fight the urge to destroy the nearest thing, just tear it the fuck apart. My hands grip the metal bar of the lamppost. The thought of those fucking asswipes getting their hands on playful, sweet Shy…
“Come on, man,” Muscle says, thumping my shoulder. “Destroying the lamp post isn’t going to get us anywhere.” He pries my fingers off. “They might be bluffing spectacularly. We won’t know shit until we see the footage.”
“And if they’re not bluffing?”
Muscle’s smile is cruel. “Then we take down their entire goddamn club.”
CHAPTER FOUR
BEAST
We showed up at Gem and Dom’s house late that night, because we all needed to see the information. Crowding around Dom’s computer, we watched the grainy footage. I’m the only one clearly evident on the cameras. To my surprise — and relief — Muscle doesn’t appear on screen. It’s just me walking into the pawn shop, and then later walking out the back with a body slung over my shoulder.
“Pretty fucking damning evidence,” Gem says, rubbing his jaw. “And they want the guns for this?”
“The guns…and Shy,” Muscle says, clearly furious. “It’s no fucking deal. The question is, what are we gonna do?”
But seeing that it’s only my face on screen has calmed me. It’s obvious what we should do. “We’re not gonna say a goddamn thing. They can send me to jail.”
The three men in the room look at me grimly. “That is a shit option,” Muscle says.
“I’ve gone to prison before. I can go again.”
“This ain’t a drug charge, my friend,” Muscle says. “This is a goddamn murder charge. You go in, you won’t be coming back.”
“I know.” God, do I know.
• • •
SHY
“Can you bring me another coffee? That’s a good girl.” Mr. Green passes by me with the newspaper from the break room. “Oh, and can you pick up my pages from the printer? Thanks.”
I try not to glare at him as I head to the printer. I’ve been at my new, glorious job for half a day already and it’s clear this place is not girl-friendly. There are four other women in the twelve-person office, and it’s clear we’re not treated on the same level. I’ve had to retrieve coffee for Mr. Green four times this morning, and I’m not his secretary. I can’t exactly complain, though. Or I shouldn’t. It’s day one of my new job and I want this to work, I really do.
I pick up the stack of papers from the copier. They’re time-sheets. I glance around to see if anyone else is nearby, but half the office is gone for lunch. I peek through the time sheets just for curiosity’s sake. All of the women in the office are making significantly less than the men. In fact, three of us are making minimum wage. The one that’s not is a girl that I met in the sales department, who’s been with the company ten years. I met the other sales guy, too. He’s been with the company for only a year, and his salary is double hers.
God, this stinks. Maybe I’ll stick this place out for a year to beef my resume, and then get another job somewhere. My gratitude over being hired is being overwhelmed rapidly by having to retrieve coffee like I’m his wife or his bitch. And they haven’t even shown me how to do anything on the computer yet. I’ve been couriering faxes all morning.
I head to Green’s office with another cup of coffee and the papers from the copier. I drop them off and he doesn’t thank me, just pushes the papers into a red folder in his inbox. I head back to the temporary desk that’s been designated as mine. It’s in the back of the office, the last in a row of cubes, and when I turn the corner to my desk, someone’s sitting there.
It’s the long haired guy from my interview. The biker. He smiles at me.
My skin prickles with awareness. “T-t-that’s my s-s-seat.”
“You can sit here if you like.” He pats his leg.
“You know that’s sexual harassment right?” Thank God my stutter disappears.
He laughs, as if amused by what I’m saying. “Only if I work here, baby. And I don’t.” He toys with the schedule I’ve clipped to the cube wall. “I’m the owner’s son, though. What I say around here goes.”
Ugh. “I’ll k-keep that in m-mind. My s-seat please?”
He gets up leisurely, then moves closer to me. When I lean away, he just leans further in. “It’s cute when you fight back. I like that sort of thing. Keep it up.” He moves past me. “But on Saturday, I expect obedience.”
I frown at his back. What on earth is he talking about? What happens on Saturday? I check my schedule, because he was toying with the paper, but I don’t see anything there. I only work Monday through Friday.
Weird.
• • •
When I exit the building that afternoon, Muscle’s waiting for me on his bike. He’s got a bouquet of grocery store flowers in his hands and holds them out to me. “For the working girl.”
I giggle and lean in to give him a kiss. “Thank you. That’s sweet of you.”
“Just wanted to make sure you had a good day today,” he says. He smiles, too, but he looks preoccupied.
“Beast still working?”
“Yeah. Something came up.”
I nod and get on the back of the bike with him. The ride home is nice, the weather lovely, and I squish the flowers between my chest and Muscle’s back. I’m going to put them in water when we get home.
Muscle and I make sandwiches for dinner since neither of us is much of a cook, and Beast still isn’t home. We normally have dinner with all three of us at the table, so it seems off to eat without him. We take our sandwiches into the living room and eat as we watch the Monday night football game.
“Boy, that’s some job,” I comment to Muscle as the game ends. “He’s still out working?”
“It’s a mess,” he says, and checks his phone.
“Should we call him?”
“Nah,” Muscle says, and then reaches over and tackles me on the couch, and we get into a kissing-and-tickling fight tha
t I lose. Not that I mind losing.
He swings me into his arms a short time later and we’re about to head upstairs when the door to the garage opens.
“Oh,” I say, patting his chest. “Beast is home.” He sets me down and I race to the garage door to meet Beast. When he comes in, there’s a drawn look to his big face, and I frown at the sight of him. “Hey babe,” I say softly and move to give him a kiss. “You look tired.”
“Exhausted,” he says and pulls me against him. To my surprise, he hauls me into his arms and kisses me, hard. It’s not a kiss of greeting, but a kiss of claiming. And since I’m already all fired up from my play with Muscle, I lean into the kiss eagerly, and moan when his tongue darts against mine. “I’m taking you upstairs,” he tells me.
I wrap my arms around his neck and press kisses along his jaw. “Don’t you want dinner?”
“I just want to bury myself inside you,” he says, and captures my mouth again. I’m breathless with need and I cling to him as we head for the stairs. He turns and looks over at Muscle. ”You coming?”
“I’ll join ya in a bit,” he says. “Want to get the highlights of the game.”
He wants to watch TV instead of having sex? Who is this man? I start to protest, but then I’m swept up in another one of Beast’s hot, tonguing kisses, and I forget everything but the big man against me.
“My Shy girl,” he murmurs when we’re upstairs, and lays me gently on the bed. “You know I love you, right?”
Beast isn’t much for affectionate comments, so hearing him say that is incredibly sweet. I touch his cheek. “I love you, too.”
He leans in and kisses me again. “I need to take you hard and fast. I can’t wait tonight.”
I’m surprised at this turn, but aroused, too. “I’m ready for you.”
“Are you?” He slides a hand under my dress and pushes my panties aside. In the next moment, his fingers are slicking into my wet heat. “Yeah, you sure are, aren’t you? Wet as could be.”
