by Carmen Faye
“I’m not! Everything I’ve told you is the truth. I just didn’t tell you I was Andrew’s favorite!”
“Why not?”
“Why do you think? Because I didn’t want you to stomp me into a wet spot!”
“Get her out of here,” Ironside said as he pushed back.
“Wait! Now that you know, I’ll tell you where Andrew lives! Will that be useful?”
“Where?”
“I don’t know the exact address—wait, wait!” she cried when they started sliding back again. “I can show you! It’s on Grande Center in Westlake. There are only a few houses there. It’s in the cul-de-sac. I’ll show you on the computer!”
“How do we know you aren’t lying again?” Dolch asked.
“I didn’t lie! Please! I just didn’t tell you I was fucking Andrew. Everything else was the truth!”
“The President’s old lady? Why are you leaving?”
“I’m not his old lady. I’m just the chick he’s fucking. I don’t owe him anything. You’d be doing me a favor if you kicked his ass.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m tired of him slapping me around, that’s why. I told you that already. I just didn’t tell you it was Andrew who was slapping me around.”
Ironside thought a moment. Knowing where Andrew lived would be a useful piece of information. “Get a computer. What’s the house look like?”
“Big. White brick. Two story with a funny-looking red roof. Lots of trees in the yard.”
A few moments later a computer arrived and she typed on it a moment. “There! That’s it!” she said, pointing to a picture of the house.
Ironside turned the computer to look. It was exactly as she described. He grinned at Whiteshirt and Dolch. “This stays in the room.”
“Agreed,” the men said. They all knew this was an ace in the hole, and they wanted to protect it until they needed to use it.
“Will you let me go now?” Peyton asked.
“What else do you know about Andrew?”
“He likes to fuck. He likes to hurt people. He has money and he likes to flash it around. His house is full of expensive junk. He likes to run down the women of the club. He has bad breath and he isn’t nearly as good a lover as he thinks he is.”
“That it?”
“What else do you want to know? His cock isn’t as big as yours, nor is he as good in bed. He’s big, but not as big as you. He has a new, red, Cadillac Escalade. He rides a black Harley-Davison, but I don’t know what kind. Umm…” she paused as she thought. “He likes fast food, pizza and beer.”
“That’s enough,” Ironside said. She was obviously spilling her guts, but she didn’t know anything else useful. The one gem had been Andrew’s address, though he was secretly pleased to know his cock was bigger.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, her voice quiet.
“We need to talk about it. Dolch, take her out and have someone sit on her.”
***
“What do you think?” Ironside asked when Dolch returned.
“I think she’s a spy,” Whiteshirt said.
“Why would she give up Andrew’s house?” Ironside asked.
“We don’t know it is his house.” Dolch pointed out.
“She described it before she saw it.”
“Yeah? So?” Whiteshirt asked.
Ironside gave him that one. “Put a couple of girls in a car and have them go check it out.”
“Okay. Then what?”
“Then nothing. I just want to know if it’s really Andrew’s house in case we have to move on it.”
“I think I should take her to the other side and drop her off,” Dolch said.
“You don’t think she’s telling us the truth?”
“Doesn’t matter. A Saracen comes north of I-90, we kill them if it’s a brother, and we toss them back if it’s a woman.”
Ironside nodded. “Agreed. She shouldn’t have left out the bit about Andrew.”
Whiteshirt sat back in satisfaction. “I think that’s a wise decision.”
Ironside grinned. “Especially since it’s what you wanted to do all along?”
Whiteshirt grinned. “Like I said, a wise decision.”
“This is my mess, I’ll deal with it,” Ironside said, pushing back from the table.
He stepped out of the room they called kirche, German for church. Peyton was sitting in a chair, looking miserable as Honey and two other club girls glared at her. He nodded to Lolly as he passed, letting him know he was taking responsibility for her. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Back to the other side.”
“Kick her ass!” Honey snarled, her face bruised and swollen.
Ironside ignored her as he reached down and took her arm.
“Good,” Peyton said softly.
Ironside blinked in surprise. “Good? No begging? No trying to explain how you didn’t really lie?”
“No. I have to go back.”
“Why?”
“Because Melissa didn’t get away. If I don’t go back, Andrew will take it out on her. He knows she’s my best friend. I told you he liked to hurt people.”
“Then you’re getting what you want,” he said as he dragged her along to the door.
“Will you do me a favor?”
“You’re in no position to be asking for favors.”
“Please. Do me this one thing since I gave you Andrew’s address.”
“What?” he asked as they banged through the clubhouse doors.
“Don’t hit me in the face. Andrew will see the bruises and know I didn’t stay at a friend’s house. He already thinks I’m lying, and that will only make it worse.”
They mounted up, but as they rode away, Ironside thought about Peyton. She was loyal, he’d give her that. He also believed she was telling the truth. Had been telling the truth all along, with the exception of being Andrew’s girl. Getting his home address, more than anything, convinced him she was telling the truth. The members of the club protected their home addresses at all costs because it put brothers in danger. He assumed the Saracens did, as well, since they didn’t even have a sniff of where any of them lived…until now.
He pulled into a church parking lot that adjoined a pedestrian bridge across the I-90. It was both clubs standard drop point, if the person was ambulatory. The clubs would drop on their side and allow the person to walk across. She stepped off the bike and stood tall waiting. There were tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t begging, not like most of the women they tossed back.
“Just do it,” she said.
He didn’t want to hit her, but he couldn’t just let her walk either. Without warning, he gut punched her but pulled the power.
She woofed out air and doubled over, holding her stomach before straightening with a sneer. He’d obviously pulled the punch, otherwise she’d be on her ass. “You punch like a pansy.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “You want me to try again?”
She relaxed, knowing another one wasn’t coming. “No.” She forced herself to stand straight. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not hitting me in the face. For pulling the punch.” She paused. “For last night.”
“Don’t let me catch you on this side of I-90 again.”
She nodded, picked up her duffle, and walked up the ramp and across the interstate as he watched.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“You’ve got a lot of guts, coming here,” Dolch growled, standing at the gates of the Knights’ compound.
“I have information. Information you need,” Peyton replied.
“Like last time?”
“Let me speak to Ironside.”
“Go back where you came from before I beat the shit out of you.”
“Go ahead. I deserve it.”
That gave him pause. “What information?”
“No. I’ll tell you, but I want to make a deal first.”
“Right. Like we�
�re going to trust you now.”
“Why don’t you let Ironside make that choice? This is way above your pay-grade.”
Dolch fumed. When she buzzed the intercom, and he saw her on the security camera, he couldn’t believe his eyes. To come back here now she was desperate, stupid, crazy, or brave, or maybe all the above.
“Step back,” he said as he swiped his card to open the man gate, pushing it open so she could enter then closed it behind her.
“What’s she doing here!” Honey barked as Dolch led her into the clubhouse.
“Hey, Honey! How’s the face?” Peyton asked. “I didn’t bring you anything this time.”
Honey started to close on her, but Dolch pushed her back. “Can it,” he ordered.
“You’ll get yours,” Honey snarled.
Peyton pursed her lips into a noisy air kiss.
“What are you doing here?” Whiteshirt asked, stepping out of his office when Honey spouted off.
“She wants to talk to Ironside. She says she has information we need.”
“Throw her out,” Whiteshirt snarled. “You come back again, I’ll kill you.”
“You need to hear this!” she said as she jerked her arm free. “If you don’t, a lot of people are going to die.”
Whiteshirt rubbed his beard. “What’s the news?”
“I want to make a deal first.”
“No deals!”
“I want to talk to Ironside! If he tells me no deal, fine. But if you throw me out, and everyone dies, it’ll be on you! Do you want that on your head?”
Whiteshirt pursed his lips. “Fuck it.” He pulled his phone and dialed. “Peyton is here.” He paused. “At the clubhouse. She says she has news, but she wants to make a deal before she tells us.” Pause. “I don’t know, but she said a lot of people are going to die if we don’t hear the news.” There was another pause. “Ten minutes,” he said then ended the call and glared at her. “He’ll be here in ten minutes. He said to wait in kirche.”
***
Peyton, Whiteshirt, and Dolch were sitting in uncomfortable silence when Ironside came into the room. “I told you I didn’t want to see you north of I-90 again.”
“You want to know this.”
“What?”
“A deal first.”
“What’s the deal?”
“I give you this information, you help me get Melissa away from the Saracens and away from Cleveland.”
Ironside sucked on his teeth a moment. “Where’s Melissa?”
“Don’t know. That’s the problem.”
“What happened to her?”
“She got ‘initiated.’”
The three men looked at each other. “What’s that mean?”
“It means Andrew and four other guys took her into the sex room where they raped her over and over again. It means she’s being held somewhere until they can put her on the street turning tricks. It means she’s going to die if I don’t get her out of there.”
“You know this for sure?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Andrew told me. He told me it would happen to me, too, if I didn’t watch myself.”
Whiteshirt looked at the other men. “Does anyone else see a problem here? How are we supposed to help rescue Melissa if we don’t know where she is?”
“I’ll find out.”
“How?” Ironside asked.
“Leave that to me. I’ll figure something out. I found out this information to have something to trade. I’ll find out everything I can, about everything. I’ll trade anything I can learn for help with Melissa.”
“What’s the news?” Dolch asked.
Peyton waited, staring at Ironside. “If the news checks out, we’ll talk about helping.”
“No. The news will check out. I want your assurance you’ll help, not you’ll think about it, talk about it, whatever.”
Ironside drummed his fingers. “Okay. If it checks out, we’ll help, but you have to find out where she is before we move. I’m telling you this now. I reserve the right to change my mind if this news turns out to be a big nothing.”
She smiled. “Trust me, this is anything but nothing. So we have a deal?”
“We do.”
“The Saracens are going to hit you, tonight, sometime between seven and nine, at some escort service you run. It’s on Canfield.”
The three men looked at each other. “That’s pretty specific considering you didn’t know shit the last time,” Whiteside said.
“How many men?” Dolch asked.
“I don’t know exactly. Around ten or so.”
“Why?” Ironside asked. “They have to know we’ll hit back.”
“It’s supposed to look like some kind of random violence. I don’t know the full details of what they are planning, but I know they have a plan so you won’t link it to them.”
“Again, why?”
“They think you stole some guns.”
“Goddamnit! I knew that was going to come back and bite us in the ass!” Whiteshirt snarled.
“Did you?” Peyton asked.
“No,” Ironside said. “We’re trying to get out of the gun business. “I’m not sure I’m following. If we don’t know they are the ones who hit us, how could they be sending a message?”
“You’ll have to ask them.”
“Maybe they want to see if we will,” Whiteshirt suggest. “If we took their guns, we’d know it was a retaliatory strike. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t suspect them.”
“How did you find this out?” Ironside asked.
“I opened my legs for someone.”
“That’s kind of dangerous, isn’t it? I mean, considering you’re Andrew’s girl and all…” Dolch said.
“I’m not Andrew’s girl. I’m just a girl he likes to fuck. I owe that bastard for what he did to Melissa. I’d cut his nuts off myself if I thought I could get away with it.”
“So this swinging dick just told you everything you wanted to know to get in your pants?” Ironside asked.
“It wasn’t that easy, but yeah. Melissa disappeared two days ago. I was asking around, trying to find out where she went. That’s when I found out something was going down, I just didn’t know what. That night, I asked Andrew about it, and that’s when he told me about Melissa as a warning to not be asking questions.”
“Then what?”
“Then? Then I decided I was going to do whatever it takes to get Melissa out of there. If that meant screwing every man in the club, I would. This guy had been sniffing around before, so I led him on. He didn’t know where Melissa was, or wouldn’t tell me, but he did tell me they had something planned for the Knights. I guess he was trying to impress me. Anyway, while Andrew was away this morning, I took him into one of the guest rooms, and for every little bit of information he gave me, I gave him something back. While he was fucking me, I found out about the hit by pretending the violence turned me on. The information didn’t help me find Melissa, but I thought I would trade it to you for your help.”
“We better put extra security on Canfield,” Ironside said after a moment of silence. “Just in case.”
“Agreed,” Whiteshirt added.
“You said ten men?” Dolch asked.
“Something like that.”
“I’ll assign twenty additional. That’ll make a nice little surprise for them. They’re expecting a couple brothers and they’ll run into ten times that amount.”
“Let’s close the place down to protect the girls,” Ironside added.
“What if she’s lying?” Whiteshirt asked.
“I’m not lying!”
“What if she’s wrong, then?” Whiteshirt amended.
“Then we’ll have lost a night’s income, but if she’s right…”
“Ironside is right,” Dolch agreed. “Too big a risk to not shut it down for the night.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Whiteshirt finally said.
Dolch rose and went to get the protection rolling. �
��What are we going to do with her?” Whiteshirt asked.
