by Debra Kayn
Christina rubbed his back, pulling her head off his chest. "What's going on?"
"Nothing yet." He led her over to the rocker on the porch, sat down, and put her on his lap. "I hoped for word about what was happening on the inside."
He let go of Christina and yelled for Merk. Steven, the son of a bitch, had come through for him without raising any suspicion. Huckleberries represented Blues. Steven hinted at the number of Blues members on the inside compared to Reds. Now he needed to know exactly how many Reds were outside making the damn huckleberry pies.
Merk jumped onto the porch. "Yeah?"
"We need to find out how many Reds are on the outside." Cam dug his pack of smokes out of his pocket and lit a cigarette. "Contact Pretaro."
"Can't do it." Merk set his jaw. "We need him to make visitations available to you and he gave me the ultimatum last time I talked to him when you were still on the inside that he'll only work with one Moroad member at a time. That needs to be you, since you're doing the meetings now."
"How about that guy...fuck, what's his name. He's the driver for the bus."
"Hasgrove?"
"Yeah, that's him. Is there any way to talk to him?"
Merk pulled out his cell and used his thumb to scroll through his phone. "I can try. What are we needing?"
"I need to know how many members of the Reds walked outside the fence in the last three months. Six months would be better, but see what you can do," Cam said.
"You need recent releases?" Christina slid off his lap.
Cam frowned. "Yeah."
"I can tell you how many." She crossed her arms. "And the dates of their release for the last year."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Cam looked at Merk, who'd stopped paying attention to his phone and stared at Christina. "How would you get that information?"
"Hang on, I'll show you." She pivoted and walked into the house.
Less than a minute later, Christina returned and sat down in the rocker with her laptop. He moved closer, uneasy that she'd turn on a device anyone could use against her and Moroad MC. The feds could tap any device, including cell phones. That's why he made sure all of his men only used pre-paid phones and stayed off the internet. The last thing he needed was club business leaked to every motherfucker out there.
"Look." She swiveled the laptop on her thighs. "Here's a list of prisoners who've been released. It goes back fourteen, no fifteen months from today."
Cam scanned the list, there were over a hundred names listed. "I don't recognize any of them."
"Oh, wait..." She tapped the laptop and another page opened. "Here are their real names and in the other column I've put in their nicknames or what their family calls them. I'm not sure I got them all correct, but it's close. I went off the roster the state keeps current on their website."
He straightened. "Shut it off."
"What?"
"Shut the fucking thing off." Cam grabbed the laptop and swung around ready to throw it in the yard and blast it to pieces with a bullet from his .380 to get it away from Christina.
Merk grabbed his wrist. "Don't."
"I won't have the damn thing in my house for the Feds to track—"
"Shut up and listen to her," Merk said, removing the laptop from Cam's hand. "Let her explain."
"You knew what she was doing." Cam fisted his hand.
He wanted to take back ever having asked Merk to watch over Christina. The need to wipe away everything that happened in his absence grew. He wanted Christina to rely on him. He'd set her up in his house, broke her down, and rebuilt her confidence around him. He gave her strength, and knowing Merk defended her pissed him off. Fucking Merk knew more about his woman than he did at this point.
"She'll tell you what she's done and how it works." Merk set the laptop on the railing.
Cam walked away from Merk and grabbed Christina's arm. "Get in the house."
"I can explain what I'm doing." Christina pulled against him, but he refused to let her go.
He marched her into the house and set her down on the couch. Excess energy bounced inside of him, and he paced in front of her. The knowledge that she had personal information on the laptop for anyone to access put the whole club in danger.
"You have no fucking clue what you've done," he said.
She crossed her arms, a habit she'd picked up when he was gone. "I know what I'm doing."
"I told you no information goes out of this house. You don't talk to my men, you don't talk to outsiders, you don't fucking talk to people on the internet. So far, you've gone against every rule I set in place before I left." He ran his hands through his hair. "I should lock you up in the damn bedroom."
"Every night when you were gone, I wished you were here to lock me up." She shook her head, pursing her lips. "I would've done anything to have you with me, and then I got angry. Once I got past being pissed off, I thought I would die without you. You have no...no idea what I went through."
"You're here, aren't you?" He wanted to shake sense into her.
"You weren't here." She glared. "And, because you left me, I had the internet hooked to the house. I looked up everything that had to do with the Idaho State prison. I knew when you had lunch. I knew what kind of jumper and slippers you had to wear. I knew when visitors were allowed in, and prayed you had no one coming to see you, because I couldn't stand the thought of someone having a piece of you, when you kept yourself from me. You punished me for the crime of loving you, so if you're pissed at me, I don't care."
Her gaze stared back at him, honest and pure. He couldn't berate her for wanting more of him, and he hung his head. For the first time, he wanted to forgive her. She'd done exactly what he'd wanted her to do. She missed him, she mourned for him, and she feared losing him. How could he punish her for something he'd started?
"I'll fix this." He sat down in front of her on the coffee table. "How did you get the names I saw? How do we clean them off of the machine?"
"I have them password protected on a USB flash drive. There's a slot on the side of the computer. All I have to do is pull the flash drive out. There's no information on the computer. I'm not stupid, Cam. If for some odd chance the computer was hacked, the most anyone could find out is I visit a family support forum online for family members of prisoners and I never post. Considering you were in prison, it was only common knowledge I would seek others in the same position as I found myself. I'm also registered at the site under a fake name...Christina Penny. I know how computers work, and when I worked for the social service department for the county, we kept everything on flash drives because the counties computer system is outdated and not secure."
"How sure are you that nobody can get any of the information you collected?"
"Ninety-nine percent. There's always a chance someone will break into this house and steal the flash drive," she said. "Cam, I have information you can use. I didn't know what I was doing at the time would help you. I only wanted to find out who was in prison with you and know if anything bad happened. Some of the families are scared, and I understood that fear. Nevertheless, I would never put your life in danger or go against your advice of not talking to them or sharing information. I never communicated with anyone on the forum."
"Fuck. I can't deal with you hacking into this stuff, knowing information...." He brought her hands up to his lips. "I don't like it."
"Why do you need to know the recent releases?"
"So I can stay one step ahead of those that would do the club harm," he said.
She squeezed his hands. "I can help you. I've noticed a pattern. In the last three months, there've been nine Reds members released. No Blues, No Los Li. You're the only one from Moroad MC that's walked out since I've been keeping track."
"You have names?" He straightened.
She nodded with a slow smile. "Yeah, I have names."
"Jesus Christ, what have you done?" He stood, strode to the door, and yelled for Merk. "Bring the laptop and get your ass in here."
Christina cl
utched her hands together under her chin. He held back his hope she had the answers to his question about Reds. If she was right, and his gut told him she was, Reds had more people on the outside. That meant they were gunning for war to take the gun chain away from Moroad.
If his theory panned out, every member's freedom was at risk. He'd die before he let the gun chain fall out of his hands after putting years of his life into creating the chain.
Chapter Eight
The sun beat down on Christina's bare shoulders. She slid her sunglasses to the top of her head and fanned her overheated face. Cam mentioned he'd only be gone ten minutes, and it seemed like she'd been sitting outside the Sterling Building for at least an hour.
Merk got off his motorcycle and approached her. "Hop off, and I'll push his bike into the shade."
"He said it wasn't going to be very long," she said, staying on the back of Cam's Motorcycle.
"Right and in the meantime, you're going to get sunburned." He motioned his thumb over his shoulder. "Get off."
She slid off the bike and walked beside it while Merk moved the motorcycle thirty feet down the street to catch the shade coming off the two-story brick building. The relief to her skin came immediately.
"Thanks," she said, climbing back up on the motorcycle where Cam had told her to stay.
Merk squinted, his head still in the sun. "He shouldn't have left you out here alone."
"He didn't." She glanced behind him. "You, Stache, and Bear are here with me."
"You don't fucking see it, do you?" His eye twitched and he rubbed his jaw.
The firm bristles of whiskers swished against Merk's calloused hand. She caught her lip between her teeth. She failed to understand where Merk's anger came from.
"No, I guess I don't." She sighed. "I don't understand why you've changed toward me."
Merk watched the back of the building and said, "Sweetheart, open your eyes. Cam can see what's happening. You want to waste your life on someone you'll always be struggling to win over, then that's fine. I can respect that, but you need to start listening to your head instead of your damn heart."
"I don't—"
"You damn well do know what I'm saying." Merk turned to her and the intensity of his gaze burned her worse than the heat from the sun. "We grew close over the last year, so don't go telling me how happy you are since Cam came home. Even you can't deny you've talked to me more than you have your old man. I've dried your tears and mended your heart when it broke."
"You're a good friend to me," she whispered. "I know you've been here more than Cam."
Merk shook his head. "Like I said, what we have isn't friendship."
He walked back to his bike. She stared after him, hurting for no other reason than she'd inadvertently insulted him. She understood he cared about her more than the other Moroad MC members. She also understood why her connection with Merk upset Cam. Merk never once put any moves on her or talked her out of loving Cam. Now all of a sudden, Cam was home, and Merk had a problem with her relationship.
"Merk," she called.
He stopped and turned around. She shrugged. "I'm sorry."
The backdoor of the Sterling Building opened, and Merk walked to his bike without replying. Somehow, they'd get past this without anyone getting hurt.
Cam spotted her on the motorcycle and walked along the sidewalk. "Who moved my bike?"
"Merk." She hesitated, and decided if they were all going to work through their feelings, she had to be honest. "It was hot out in the sun."
Cam's lips disappeared inside his beard. "Next time, tell him to keep his damn hands off my motorcycle."
She slid off, put the helmet on while she waited for Cam to sit on the bike, and then climbed back on. Settled behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. She gazed at Merk as Cam took the lead heading out of Federal.
Merk watched her go past, his expression unreadable. She laid her head on Cam's back. Everything would be okay. They were all getting used to having Cam home and she only had to be patient. Merk would have more free time now that he no longer had to babysit her, and his feelings would go away. She swallowed, finding it hard to catch her breath in the wind. She owed Merk for taking care of her. The ache in her stomach over Cam's anger settled like a stone.
Cam had other things on his mind, that's all. He wasn't thinking about her comfort, because club business came first. She could've got off the bike and sought the shade on her own. It wasn't Cam's fault she took his orders literally and stayed on the motorcycle. Besides, he'd stayed inside the building longer than he'd planned.
She lifted her head. "Cam?" she yelled.
He reached down and rubbed her thigh.
"Can you pull over?" She raised her voice. "Please."
He nodded, holding out his left arm. The others rode past them, and Cam slowed to a stop at the side of the road. She wanted to clear the air before they got home.
Cam shut off the engine. She pressed against his back and looked at him through the side view mirror. "I need to talk to you."
"About?"
She ran her hands up and down his thighs. "Promise you'll listen to me and not jump to conclusions."
"Not promising a damn thing." He frowned into the mirror. "What's going on?"
"I understand why you don't want Merk in the house." The muscles on his legs hardened. She squeezed, wanting to loosen him for the rest of what she wanted to say. "I even told him that he can't come in anymore, and I value his friendship—he really did make being without you easier on me and shouldered a lot of responsibility with the house, Jeremy, and my...moods."
"Did he do something?" His hands came off the handlebars.
She shook her head, raising her hand to push the too big helmet back into place on her head. "No, of course not. But I have a feeling he might've taken my friendship to mean more than...friends."
Cam stared in the mirror and his nostrils flared. "Did he put his hands on you?"
"No." She grabbed his arm, squeezed, and lied for everyone's sake. "Nothing ever happened between us. It's just a feeling I got when I told him I was sorry about you blowing up at him the other day. He knows I love you."
He looked away. She waited for him to say something. Once they finished talking, she could put everything behind her and Merk would understand she belonged to Cam and she'd mend the rift between him and Cam.
"How did you come about getting this feeling that he wanted you?" Cam's voice sent a shiver down her spine.
"The same way any woman knows when a man is interested, Cam." She patted his leg. "Just like I knew you were attracted to me before you kidnapped me. It's just a feeling."
He grabbed her wrist. She flinched, jerking her arm but he didn't let her go. "Stay away from Merk."
"I'm with you." She kissed his shoulder. "That's why I'm telling you what I'm thinking, so this doesn't get blown out of proportion. I like having the Moroad members around and I think it's good for you to have them hanging at the house. You can trust Merk. He hasn't done anything, and I'm sure he won't. He's not that kind of man."
"Are you done talking now?"
"Yes." She softened her voice. "Are we okay?"
He nodded.
She smiled into the mirror. "I’m glad, because I don't like to see people upset. Especially, you."
Cam started the bike and within ten minutes rode into the yard. As soon as the motorcycle stopped, she jumped off and studied the torn patches in the yard.
"What's wrong now?" Cam stretched his leg.
"I'm never going to break you of the habit of riding clear up to the porch, am I?" She took off the helmet and hung it on the handlebar.
"No." He slipped his fingers underneath the waist of her jeans and tugged her along with him to the porch. "My bike stays there when I'm not riding it. In the winter, it's up on the porch."
She skipped, turning to face him while she walked. "We've never been together during the winter with all the snow."
"Yeah, well, maybe we'll be ab
le to do that this winter." He leaned over and grabbed her behind her knees, hauling her over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" She laughed as she flipped upside down and grabbed onto the back of his jeans.
He slapped her ass. "What do you think?"
Her body flushed with warmth and she laughed, each gust of amusement pumped from her stomach as he carried her into the house and tossed her on the bed. She refused to wait for him to help her undress. She kicked her sneakers off and pulled her jeans free of her legs when he grasped her shirt.
She reached behind her to undo her bra and he stopped her. "Keep it on."
He ran his hands down the front of her body, taking the cups of her bra with him. Her breasts sprung free and she arched her back wanting him to touch her.
"I'm hot," she said blowing out her breath.
"Me, too."
"I mean from the ride."
He glanced up into her eyes. "We're going to get hotter."
Her breath came faster and she lay down on her back. Cam turned and sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his boots, his jeans, and setting his pistol on the floor. She shivered, knowing what happened the last time he went to town carrying a weapon. Despite her worries, she couldn't find it in herself to ask him to leave it at home anymore. Danger seemed to lurk in every corner when it came to Cam.
She drew her gaze over his bare back. He wore his tattoos like a second skin. The markings of a man who'd never told his story, not even in tattoos. The symbols, marks, and abbreviations meant nothing to her. She only knew them as statements and warnings to others. He'd hinted that special moments and experiences tattooed permanently on skin for a lifetime were for other people, not him.
As if feeling her staring at him, he turned.
"You're staring," he whispered.
"I've missed looking at you."
"I'm here now." He crawled over her.
She widened her legs and trailed her hands over his chest. For a man forty-six years old, he'd come back from prison with even more muscles.
Cam dipped his head, taking her breast in his mouth. A jolt shot straight down between her legs and she shuddered, pulling a moan from him when her nipple beaded in his mouth. Her fingers curled in his hair. For all his anger he carried inside of him, he calmed when in the bedroom with her.
