by Lexy Timms
“Really? If she’s got a husband that’s his issue—not mine. I don’t make wives cheat.” Dammit. Why hadn’t he checked up on her? He’d let her get under his skin and now he had this shit to deal with too, on top of everything else!
“Nobody’s mad at you, friend.” A conspiratorial wink followed the words. “I’ve been authorized to make you a proposition.”
“A proposition?” Morgan had no fucking clue what was going on.
Another quick dip in the pocket. A thick envelope hit the bar. “Fifteen grand. Take it. Forget you ever met her. Leave the bitch alone.”
Morgan took his whisky. He was pissed off. What the hell was going on here? Who was Katie that someone would send a man like this to offer him a payoff? She was an assistant to the Wilkes family, he knew that. Was it possible one of them had their eye on her, or that she was involved with one of them? Maybe she had a head filled with secrets they would rather not have him know. Questions with no answer. Questions that led to more questions. Frustrated and angry, he knocked back his whiskey and moved so fast dipshit beside him didn’t even have time to react. His fist lashed out, knocking the bigger man sideways. He grabbed the bat from behind the bar and lifted it, bringing it down on the man’s bad leg with a sharp swing.
The man screamed and fell to the floor, clutching his leg.
Immediately all the weekend warriors who wore suits five days a week fled. Their taste didn’t run as far as bloodshed or roughhousing. Morgan’s crew’s did though and they ringed the hapless man on the floor.
Morgan stood in front of him, his face impassive. He spat. “You go back and tell whoever the fuck sent you to go to hell. I do what I want when I want and with who the fuck I want. I’m taking the cash as a salve to my ego. Tell them that too. If they aren’t cool with it, let them come back and try to take it back.”
The man climbed up to his feet. His face was white with pain. “You little fuck! You—”
“Yeah, I’m all that.” Morgan clipped the bat over his shoulder. “Now get the hell out before I get real mad. You see what just happened to you was nothing.” He leaned forward and dipshit shuffled back. “You don’t walk into a man’s place, insult him and expect to walk away clean. I don’t know who the fuck you work for, and I don’t give a shit.” He took the guy’s drink and threw it back. “What I do care about is you coming into my place. Be smart. Don’t fuckin’ do it again. Send your boss. Let him fight his own damn battles.”
“You don’t know who the fuck you’re messing with.” Dipshit stumbled on his feet and glared at Morgan. “He could fuck you and your whole gang. Burn all of you. He will too, because if you think he just insulted you then you just wait till he hears about this.” He cackled. “He doesn’t like to be insulted either.”
“Then why is it that the best thing he could send my way, was you?” Morgan smirked. “Tell me that one. No, don’t. Just get the hell out before I decide to turn you into a lump out there on the street.”
“You’re a dead man,” the man said before he limped out of the bar.
The bar went silent.
Clive, who’d pulled a heavy lead pipe from its hiding place under a table, shook his head. “Boss, what the hell was that?”
“I slept with the wrong girl it seems.” Morgan grinned. A hoot of laughter came from someone, then everyone started to laugh. Morgan opened the envelope and pushed it toward Craig. “Put that in the safe. I’ll be in my office. I need to make some calls. We need to close that deal you made, and we’re still short.”
“Yeah, I know.” Clive dropped his eyes. “I got the rest of the stuff we found out at the clubhouse packed and walking. We should see some cash flow from it pretty fast.”
Packed and walking meant it had been broken up and sent out to dealers. Most paid cash upfront but a few got it fronted. Something they couldn’t afford right now, but given how fast they needed to make the money there wasn’t a lot of choice.
None of them had an extra hundred grand just hanging around. Not one of them had complained that this wasn’t their issue, even though it had put a serious dent in the earnings they usually enjoyed. Craig was a brother. He’d screwed up but that meant nothing weighed against loyalty. They’d stand behind him. No matter what.
Not for the first time Morgan wondered if it would be better just to cut Craig loose, to exile him. He had a skill at fucking things up. Except Craig wasn’t the problem this time. He was.
Morgan turned and walked to his office, closing the door behind him.
He frowned as he pulled out his cell and called Katie. She answered on the fourth ring, just as he was about to hung up. As soon as she uttered a slightly breathless hello, he spit out, “Who the hell are you?”
“I-I…” she stuttered, “I’m sorry, Morgan.”
She was a good fuck, and he liked her, but he did not put up with shit. “Don’t fuckin’ play games with me, Katie. I just had a goon come into my place. Threatens me and then tried to give me fifteen thousand dollars to stop seeing you. Correction, his boss is rather adamant that I not see you. Care to explain?”
Her indrawn breath was all the answer he really needed. “It’s complicated.”
“Then don’t bother,” he said crisply. “I don’t need the craziness.”
He didn’t and he knew it. He had been there and done that. He would not do it again, not even for Katie. The last thing he needed was a repeat of the drama he’d had with Mona. It seemed Katie was determined to bring him as many problems as Mona. Probably more. Damn fucking women!
“Morgan.” The pleading in her voice couldn’t be missed.
He hung up. He knew it was childish but he was in no mood to try to sort out whatever her fucking deal was. He flipped his phone back on and called the leader of the OutKasts, his fingers tapping impatiently on the desk’s surface as he waited for Nate to answer.
“Hullo?”
“It’s Morgan.”
Nate tutted. “One of your boys was having a little issue footing his bill down here at the shop.”
Morgan clenched his jaw. “I know. I called to talk about settling that up.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I hear there’s all sorts of shit happening in your neck of the woods. I don’t want it drifting this way. You handle it. By tomorrow. It’s already a week later than me and your boy agreed on. I have been a gentleman so far because I respect you, but I’m not feeling so generous right now.”
Morgan huffed. Fuck! “Completely understood.” He paused a moment. “But Nate, if you come after Craig, you come after all of us.”
Silence. Then, “I wouldn’t suppose it’s any other way.”
Morgan hung up, swore soundly a few times and then punched the top of his desk. The envelope caught his eye. How the hell had he managed to get so caught up in so many stupid situations, all at the same time?
Well, he handled one anyway. Katie. That was done. Over. He wasn’t in the mood to get caught up in whatever shit she had brought him into.
Now fucking Craig. Morgan wasn’t exactly happy about getting caught up in this crisis Craig had wrought either.
They were short, at least thirty grand. He could likely pull it from somewhere, but it would be foolhardy and risky. This was the third time this year Craig had put him into a situation like this. He had to do something with Craig and he knew it, but he didn’t want to. Craig was his brother, and he had been with him for years. Craig had done some stupid things lately, and his stupidity was rapidly decimating the club, but was that an offense worthy of exile?
That was the crux of the situation. Morgan was leaning toward exile, which bothered him. He didn’t want to cut Craig off.
He didn’t want to slash Katie from his life either. The realization hit him hard. They’d hung out a bit, fucked fantastically, but was she worth more trouble?
She was. Katie was intelligent, funny, and she had below that mild follow-all-the-rules exterior, a lust for adventure and excitement. And she knew how to fuck. He grew h
ard just thinking about it.
She also had someone willing to pay a whole hell of a lot of money to make sure she stayed out of his arms and bed. Who the hell would do that? Why were they so determined he not see her again?
Now he wanted to know. He reached for his phone and then hesitated. They were about to enter a war with the OutKasts, a club who played dirty and rough. There was going to be bloodshed. Did he really want to put her in that kind of danger? If word got out that he was with someone who had access to money… it wasn’t smart thinking for a club boss.
Bringing her into his life right now would certainly cause her to be a part of whatever happened. He sighed and set the phone down. Maybe once he got this mess with Craig straightened out he could figure out what to do with her.
Until then, he simply couldn’t have her around. It was better to leave it be.
He sighed. That was the last thing he wanted to do.
CHAPTER 9
Katie stared at her phone in disbelief. Someone had gone to see Morgan, and offered him a huge chunk of money to leave her alone. There was only one person who would have done that, and he would not have gone himself. Katie stormed out of her office and headed for her father’s office, her anger overriding her disappointment earlier.
She breezed past the assistants gathered in his outer office, holding up an imperious finger when one tried to stop her. She threw open his door and stepped into the impressive, large office. As always, the view of the city stunned her slightly. Blake’s office sat at the very top of the building and had been built to overhang it slightly so that the floors, partly glass, also looked down at the busy streets below.
Blake looked up, a frown creasing his forehead. “Kathleen, what could possess you to barge in?”
She slammed the door. She saw him wince. Slamming doors showed weakness. An inability to control one’s self. She had heard it her whole life, but she didn’t care right then. She stepped right up to his desk and hissed, “How dare you meddle in my personal life! Did you pay off my doorman to spy on me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. They called me. They were concerned you were bringing riff-raff into the building. I don’t suppose I have to tell you how badly you’ve upset the co-op board by bringing a…man…like that into the building. Half the tenants are in fear for their lives. Most of them are terrified they’ll be robbed at gunpoint any minute.”
Seriously? The tenants all knew about Morgan? Really? She wanted to throttle her father. “Don’t talk about him that way.”
Her father leaned back. He swept closed the topographical surveys and the project sheets on his desk. Blake tapped a perfectly trimmed nail on his desk and said, “Surely you understand why seeing a man like that is beyond the bounds of dangerous.”
“For who? Me, or the match you’re still hoping to set me up with?” She glared at him. “I’ve news for you, dear Daddy. I might have caved in to your demands that I take Finance and then come work here, but who I see is none of your damn business!”
The door opened again. Bruce, one of Blake’s lackeys, limped in, a look of pain on his face.
Katie threw her hands in the air. “This is who you sent to buy Morgan off? And I’m only worth a mere fifteen thousand?”
Her father shook his head. “This has nothing to do with you Kathleen.”
She clenched her teeth. “It has everything to do with me! This is my life and you sent that asshole to try to…” She glanced at Bruce and laughed sarcastically. “It looks like he kicked your ass, Bruce.”
Bruce remained silent. Her father looked at him and Katie read the disapproval in his face. She could have told Bruce he was fired; her father did not tolerate failure in any form. Years of resentment and confinement surged up. “You know what? I quit.”
Her father’s mouth dropped. “You quit what, Kathleen?”
“My job! I quit and what’s more, you can keep the damn penthouse suite too. I’ll get my own. I am sick and tired of being nothing more than a commodity to you.”
“You cannot simply walk out, Kathleen.”
“Why not?”
“I trusted you with a large project. You leave that undone, and it’s not only the company that is screwed, there are a lot of people counting on this merger.”
He sounded so reasonable. He didn’t care she wanted to leave. He was probably happy. He just was playing her to finish the one job, on the emphasis of other people. He knew she would stay and finish it, and probably in the meantime convince her to stay.
She couldn’t help she was his only child now. It was not her fault he had pinned his expectations onto her and then demanded she meet them. She couldn’t change any of that, but she could change the future. She could be her own person, removed from those expectations and the constant fear of failing or disappointing him.
“You’ll find someone to finish it.” She turned and left. The sheer audacity of what she had just done hit her and she had to fight the urge to turn around and run back, apologize profusely, and claim she’d gone temporarily insane.
She had gone insane maybe, but it felt good. Liberating.
She headed to her office, grabbed her few things, and practically ran for the elevator. She made it to the parking garage before hysterical laughter came bubbling out of her mouth and she had to stop, bending over so her head was near her knees as she howled out a grim mirth.
When that passed she got up and headed for her car. She stared at it. Like everything else, it belonged to the company. It wasn’t even in her name.
In for a penny, out for a pound, she thought and walked out of the garage clutching her bag and the small amount of possessions she’d taken from the office. She hailed a cab and got into it. At the penthouse she packed hastily. It wasn’t hard, she had never bought anything personal for the place and all she really owned was her clothes.
Breathing hard and crying silently she managed to pack it all up within an hour. She called for a cab and when it arrived, she wiped her eyes and headed downstairs again. She asked the driver to take her to a hotel near the corporate office and the bar where she knew she would find Morgan.
She wanted to tell him she had walked away, and who she really was. She had to explain her father’s actions and make him understand they weren’t hers.
She had to find Morgan.
CHAPTER 10
Katie checked into the hotel using her own personal Visa card, she had left the company card on her desk in her old office. She’d never used her own before and suddenly wasn’t sure if she’d activated the damn thing. The benefit of coming from money was you never needed to consider how to spend it. You just did.
Luckily, the card ran through without a problem. She booked the executive suite for the week and took her suitcases up to the room. She dropped on the edge of the king sized bed and looked around. The room had a bedroom and a kitchen area with a couch and desk to work at. She grinned. She liked it better than her penthouse suite already.
She needed to figure things out financially. Money wasn’t the issue, figuring out how to use it was. She’d come into her trust fund, left to her by her maternal grandparents, last year. It was a large amount, in the millions, but she had never really had to use it. She was paid by the corporation, and all her bills were paid automatically. She had never done her own banking, never had to deal with renting a place of her own or buy a car.
The idea frightened and thrilled her all at once.
She stood and headed back out, walking briskly. Her thoughts felt chaotic and fleeting, full of anxiety and fear. Everything would work out. She just needed to find her ground and move forward.
First though, she wanted to see Morgan.
She walked to The Orphan Pint and hesitated outside the door of the bar. Morgan had been ticked on the phone and she couldn’t blame him for being angry. Would he even listen to her? She took a long shaky breath. This was risky. She wanted to see him and to explain things but what if he didn’t want to speak to her, or worse, what if he had her tosse
d out of the bar right on her ass?
It might be better to wait. To walk away while her heart was still just bruised instead of broken. Maybe he’d call her in a couple days.
While she stood outside the bar, her indecision was broken by the rumbling sound of motorcycles pulling up. A rough looking bunch of leather jackets, long beards and simply different class than she was used to, pulled into the lot. The hard-set lines on their mouths warned her they weren’t friendly. She watched as they began to park behind the bikes already sitting in the lot, blocking them in.
Surely the people who’d already parked their bikes there would want to get out…
Unless they didn’t want them to get out.
A cold shiver ran up her back, making the hair on the back of her neck rise. Fear settled in, a cool and pulsing dread that turned her limbs to water. She saw one man, a tall guy with red hair frizzing up all over his wild head, climb off his bike. It said OutKasts on the back of his jacket. She read it as he bent over his bike to grab something from the other side. A shotgun.
Shit! Terror spiked through her and she grabbed the handle of the door, swung it wide and ran inside, yanking it closed behind her. The men in the place looked up instantly at her and she stared around. None of these were men from her father’s company, these were rough men, maybe even rougher than the ones outside.
She cleared her throat. “There’re guys out there,” she panted as she tried to speak clearly. “They have weapons and—”
A shotgun blast peppered the thick metal of the door. Katie screamed and ran for the bar, her ass hitting the wooden top hard as she jumped to get over to the other side of it.
“What the hell?!” someone yelled.
Katie looked around wildly as another blast to the door punched the metal outward. She hid low behind the bar. Her throat closed then opened as scream after scream tried to rise but nothing came out of her mouth.
Where was Morgan? What the hell was happening?
The doors burst open. OutKasts poured inside. Katie could see everything from where she sat on the ground, the bar giving her no protection. She looked to the side and gasped.
