A shadow appears in front of me, still tens of yards away. It doesn’t draw closer, as though waiting for me to go to him. I’m certain it’s the man I’m supposed to hand this to. Who else would be waiting in an alley in the dead of the night?
But before I can reach him, I feel a presence behind me and a hand clasps over my mouth. Instant terror floods through me and I freeze, my body preparing to kick out when I recognise the voice that speaks right into my ear.
“Get out of here, Beth.”
“Ink?” It can’t be. Why is he here? He can’t be part of this. His club doesn’t do drugs. But there’s no time to explain, the man who holds my brother’s life in his hands is waiting. “I can’t, I—”
“I think you’ve got something of mine.” The man moves further out of the shadows twenty yards or so away.
I was right. This is the man I’m supposed to meet.
A tug and I lose my uncertain grip on the rucksack. Ink’s got it in his hands instead.
“Get out of here, Beth,” he commands, strangely in that voice he normally uses during sex. My brain, already attuned to him, interprets it as instruction. Wanting nothing more than to escape, I start to back away as Ink moves toward the man. Then, not understanding Ink’s involvement, or how he’d turned up, I take my opportunity and flee.
I’m aware of a commotion behind me and am thinking maybe I should stop when powerful arms come around me and I’m yanked up against a hard chest. I open my mouth to scream, but for the second time tonight, it’s covered by a palm.
“Shut the fuck up, Beth.”
In my mind’s depths I recognise this voice too, but not being Ink’s, panic takes over. All I know is, I’m trapped. I kick out with my leg hearing an oomph as I hit his knee. I bite down on his hand.
“For fuck’s sake, Beth. It’s me, Sparky.” As he talks, he’s dragging me back. “I’ve got to get you out of here. Ink would go apeshit if you were caught up in this.”
Sparky? But what’s he doing here? Then I register his desire is the same as mine—to get as far away from here as possible. But I’ve failed, haven’t I? Or did Ink hand over the drugs.
I stop fighting. Connor, I’m sorry. I tried.
He doesn’t let go of me completely, but now has just one hand with a firm hold of my arm, and he’s tugging me along. Then we’re running. I easily keep up with him, my long strides matching his.
“Where’s your car?”
I stop. “I’ve got to go back…” I’ve got to make sure the drugs were handed over. An image of Connor with a gun to his head, a bullet flying… “Sparky…”
“Where’s your fuckin’ car, Beth? There’s no time.” He grabs hold of my biceps and shakes me.
What can I do? Ink’s here, so’s Sparky. There could be more bikers. My head’s spinning. What’s happened to the drugs? And what will be the outcome for Connor?
I’m so far out of my depth, I’m drowning.
“Your fuckin’ car?”
“There.” I point to the end of the alley. “It’s just there.”
When it comes into sight, I press the key which is in the pocket of my hoodie and it unlocks with a loud beep.
Sparky curses then opens the passenger door. “Get in, I’ll drive.”
What? “No.”
“Don’t argue, Beth. This place is crawling with cops. I’ve got to come with you. Give me your keys.”
“Aren’t we waiting for Ink?” Maybe he’s gone the other way to his bike.
Sparky looks at me, the streetlight shows he’s incredulous. “Didn’t you fuckin’ see?”
“See?” I frown. All my thoughts had been on the fact I’d failed my brother as Sparky had dragged me away. I’d left Ink and the man behind me, more intent on getting free.
“Keys,” Sparky repeats tersely.
Cops, Sparky had said. What the hell does he mean? I’m not a criminal, but I’ve probably just knowingly committed a crime. I don’t want to be arrested, what help would I be to Connor then? He wants my car key. Wordlessly I hand it over. He doesn’t have to adjust the seat, just slides in and starts the engine up, then we’re moving and we’re off.
I’m hyperventilating as though I’ve just run the best part of a marathon. It’s not long before I realise it’s probably lucky that I do have a chauffeur. Tears prick in my eyes as I bow my head, struggling to breathe. One minute I was holding a bag full of drugs, scared witless in case the man I was to give them to proved violent, the next, Ink had them instead. My brain tries to make sense of it all.
Ink.
“What happened to Ink?” I ask, suddenly convinced something has.
“He was fuckin’ arrested,” Sparky snarls.
Oh. My. God. I draw in a sharp breath. “What? Why?”
“You fuckin’ tell me,” he snarls. “In fact, you can tell the prez.”
Sparky sounds so angry. Looking sideways, I notice his jaw is set. I also notice he’s not taking me in the direction of my home.
“Where are we going?”
But it seems he’s done talking to me, and anyway, my question quickly becomes pointless as the compound comes into sight.
I don’t want to be here. “I have to get home,” I wail, needing to try and call the number Connor rang from to check he’s okay; to find out whether somehow this clusterfuck of a night turned out right. If I take his words at face value, now I’d failed, he might be dead.
Sparky spares one glance for me. “I suspect Ink will prefer to be heading home too.”
Ink. Oh my God, Connor. What have you done? What have I done? My mouth opens to ask what exactly has happened to Ink, but everything happens so quickly.
The gates slide open after Sparky leans on the horn. He throws the car into park then dives out. My door is flung open. His fingers curl around my arm once more and I’m pulled roughly out.
I try to remove his hand, it’s impossible as his grip is too strong. He doesn’t seem to care I stumble as he drags me along and in through the door of the clubhouse.
“What the fuck’s gone wrong?” Demon is standing right inside. “Mace called but I couldn’t make any sense of what he was fuckin’ telling me. Why the fuck have the police taken Ink in?” I swear sparks are flashing from his eyes. Then they land on me and flare. “What the fuck is she doing here?”
“She,” Sparky starts in a tone full of disdain bordering on hate, “was delivering fuckin’ drugs to the dealer. She’s obviously deep in this shit. Ink saw, took the bag off her. Cops got him in possession of them.”
What?
Suddenly it all falls into place. “No!” I scream, but my body goes weak as my head spins, it’s only the biker’s tight hold on me that’s holding me up. In my panic and confusion, I hadn’t joined all the dots or realised the implications. Ink arrested for possession of the drugs? The drugs I took there. Ink’s got nothing to do with this. Me, yes, by association with my brother and my desire to save him. But Ink? He’s not to blame at all.
“Fuckin’ yes.” Sparky rounds on me.
Demon pinches the bridge of his nose while looking over his forefinger and thumb to Sparky. “Are you fuckin’ sure?” he asks, in a voice as cold as any I’ve ever heard before.
Sparky has one moment of hesitation. “What was in the bag, Beth?” It’s easy to see he’s praying to some deity that he’s got it wrong.
“Drugs,” I miserably confirm.
The word seems to hang in the air. Then their prez issues an instruction, “Basement. Now.”
Again, Sparky drags me. A door is opened which leads to a set of stairs, then I’m being taken unceremoniously down them.
“Wait, please. I have to make a phone call. Wait, please.” My eyes open in horror as a light is flicked on when we get to the bottom, my gaze immediately landing on a variety of tools laid out on a workbench. “Please, I can explain…” My voice trails off as I wonder what I can say in my defence as the results of the actions I’d taken tonight begin to sink in. Ink, my lover, and one of their
brothers has been arrested, and it’s all my fault. It should have been me instead. Surely the cops will let him go? He’s innocent. They must.
Demon kicks out a chair. “Sit her down.”
“No,” I cry out, turning around to face him. “I can explain. I’ve got to go to the police. Ink’s done nothing wrong.”
“No, Ink’s done nothing wrong except it sounds like he’s been stupid. But you fuckin’ have. You are going nowhere until I get answers. Sit. Her. Down,” Demon shouts at Sparky, enraged.
I try to stop them forcing me onto the chair, somehow sensing I’ll not be leaving anytime soon after they get me seated. Again, I try to get loose. Someone comes over to help, and I recognise Mace. Together they manhandle me, keeping just shy of painful as they kick my legs from under me and push me down.
Within seconds, my arms are pulled around the back of the chair and secured. This time, I don’t feel the slightest bit aroused at being tied up. Instead I struggle, protest and kick out.
They overpower me, of course. Sparky takes one leg, Mace the other. Despite having strong leg muscles from all my running, soon my ankles are restrained to the chair. Demon was right. I’m going nowhere.
A thunder of footsteps and Beef appears in the doorway. “What the fuck’s going on, Prez? What’s this about the cops getting Ink?”
“That’s what we’re just about to find out,” Demon calls over his shoulder, then focuses his stare on me. “This bitch got him arrested. She’s about to start fuckin’ talking.”
I’d admired the height of the bikers, I’m revising that opinion as I start to feel small, me with my height advantage taken away sat as I am on the chair, and them towering over me.
It’s human to be scared, but my fear isn’t for me, but for someone else. Two someones in fact. But I’m a bad sister, as there’s one who concerns me most. “Ink?” I cry out. “What’s happening to Ink?”
“Fuck if I know, but whatever it is, it will be something he doesn’t fuckin’ deserve.” Demon couldn’t have said anything I’d agree with more.
“Let me go!” I demand, knowing there’s only one thing for me to do. “I’ll go to the cops, hand myself in. Tell them it was me and not Ink…”
But Demon shakes his head, and snarls, “Not until we know what the fuck’s going on, and whether that would make things better or worse. Right now, I don’t give a fuck if you rot behind bars, but I need to know what’s best for Ink.”
“Just talk, Beth.” Beef steps into my line of sight, his words are unthreatening, his tone and expression are not. “Don’t like hurting bitches, none of us do. But a brother of ours has been arrested, and from where I’m standing, that’s all down to you. You’ve got no choice but to tell us fuckin’ everything.”
Chapter Eighteen
Beth
They seem to think they’re going to need to use force to get me to speak to them. But why should I hold anything back?
My eyes water with tears I can’t wipe away. Ink’s in trouble, there’s no denying it’s my fault. Mine, as I was persuaded by Connor to be some sort of drug mule for him. I’ve been a fool from start to finish.
Had Connor been lying about everything? Had anything he’d said been the truth? Was he really injured, being tortured and under threat of death? Or did he play on my sympathy? Did he involve me as he thought it would be too dangerous to deliver the drugs himself? Had he set me up, knowing there were going to be cops there tonight? Preferring to see his innocent sister arrested, rather than risk doing time himself? Could he hate me that much? If so, why? What have I ever done to hurt him?
Or had he been totally honest? In which case, now that it’s all gone south, my failure could mean whoever’s holding him will kill him anyway. I should have refused to help. Connor would get what he deserved for living the life that he does, and Ink would be free to live his. I made the wrong choice. But, the devil on my shoulder whispers, How could I have stood back and done nothing?
Another thunder of footsteps comes down the stairs.
“Brought her purse in. Bitch received a call today close to midnight. Cad’s analysing her phone now.”
“Who?” Demon snaps my way. “Who were you fuckin’ talking to?”
“Connor—” I respond, but don’t have a chance to add more.
“A fuckin’ man,” Mace snarls, interrupting me. “Always a man at the bottom of it. And here I was thinking you were cosying up to Ink. Knew he was a fuckin’ fool to fall for a bitch.” He directs his words to me, and his look of disgust has me reeling and spitting out the explanation fast.
“Connor’s my brother, not a boyfriend.”
My explanation doesn’t help in the slightest, as the enforcer just scoffs. “You in this together? You got a nice supply chain going on between you?”
“No,” I cry out. “It’s not like that!”
Beef looms over me, but his eyes flick to meet those of his prez. “Seems we’ve got to the bottom of who’s bringing drugs into Pueblo. A family fuckin’ business at that. Is that why you’ve been cosying up to our brother?”
My eyes can’t open any wider. “No,” I cry out.
“Then what the fuck is it?” the VP snarls.
I’m scared. My mouth doesn’t seem to work, my brain can’t find the words. These men are terrifying.
Mace steps closer. “I’m the fuckin’ enforcer, darlin’. Prez gives me the signal, and it will be gloves off. You get what I’m putting out here? Start fuckin’ talking.”
The threat is obvious. I don’t need his pointed glance toward the implements laid out on the workbench. As if a dam’s opened, it all starts tumbling out. “My brother lives in Denver with Phil, our father…” my voice trails off. That’s not the right place to begin. I try again. “My brother left packages in mom’s house, in his old bedroom. I wasn’t aware he left them, not until tonight.”
Beef snorts loudly.
“I didn’t have a clue. Not until tonight.” Poor Mom is still in the dark. She’ll be devastated and scared when she finds out.
Demon pinches his nose, then shakes his head, he pushes Mace to one side. “Right. I’ll ask you questions. And I’ll warn you, I know when someone’s lying to me. One word that’s not truth and I’ll take the leash off Mace.” The glance he exchanges with the enforcer isn’t comforting.
I nod, having nothing to gain by lying.
“You and your brother got an operation going?”
Emphatically, I shake my head. “No. I’d never go near drugs.”
“Think you did tonight,” Demon reminds me. “You said no for yourself. Your brother?”
“I don’t know. He moved out several years back. Lives with Phil—as I said that’s our father—in Denver, but I’ve not seen him for years. He, er… Mom chucked Phil out when she realised he was a criminal. But I don’t know if he’s got anything to do with drugs. I wouldn’t have said Connor did either, but I don’t really know who he is nowadays.”
“You have much to do with your brother?”
Another shake of my head. “I don’t. Occasionally he’ll visit, but not often. It’s been almost a year since we last saw him. But he’s come a couple of times lately. He asked to stay in his old room, Mom didn’t want him to have the key to her house… Look, I’m sorry, I’m trying.” I plead with my eyes, asking for time as I try to get my thoughts straight. “When she refused, he asked to pick up some of his stuff he’d left in his bedroom. When he carried a box in to collect them, we’d assumed it was empty, but I think that’s when he left the packages of drugs. Then he’d come down with it full of old junk, so we weren’t suspicious.”
“He started visiting you, why?”
“He said he had a new business venture in Pueblo.”
“He must be the one behind the fuckin’ drug dealing,” Beef says in an aside to his prez. “And I don’t buy she knew nothing about what he was leaving.”
There’s nothing wrong with my hearing—with my common sense, perhaps, but not my ears. “I swea
r I didn’t know about them. And I’d point the finger at Phil. Connor would have been working with him.”
“So you’re keeping to the story that he brought in the drugs without you knowing?”
At the same time as Mace asks his disbelieving question, Beef throws out, “Was it Heroin or meth?”
“Yes,” I direct at the enforcer, and then, “How the hell do I know?” to the VP.
Beef is clearly not convinced.
“I didn’t know until tonight,” I insist.
Mace cocks his eyebrow at Demon, who nods back. He approaches me menacingly. “You got close to Ink. Fuck, at the wedding it could have been any of us, as long as you got a biker ensnared by your presumably magical pussy, you didn’t care who. Shame it wasn’t me you fucked, I’d have never been so fuckin’ stupid. So what was your plan? To cosy up to Ink to find where we weren’t looking? Were you finding where it was safe to deal?” At the stunned look on my face, he changes tack. “’Cause I don’t believe you, darlin’.” He snarls the last word. “You want me to believe you had no ulterior motive? Tell me this. You were fuckin’ him, why didn’t you speak to him, as soon as you knew there were drugs?”
Demon, clearly getting on Mace’s wavelength asks. “Or, did you tell him? Did he know you were going to be there? Did he know what you were going to do and was trying to stop you?”
“No!” I all but scream. “I didn’t know he was going to be there. I didn’t have time to try and speak to him. Yes, that had been the first thing on my mind. But I didn’t have a chance to call. No, he didn’t know I was there. He must just have recognised me. Please,” I beg them. “Please let me tell you what happened when Connor called.”
When Demon gives me a sharp nod, I try not to think of how this morning had started, with me saying goodbye to Ink with every expectation of seeing him later. Instead, I focus on what happened after Ink had bailed, and I’d gone to my own bed alone.
“I was reading in my room; the book was good, I wanted to keep on with it. It was getting late, almost midnight. My phone rang, I’d hoped it was Ink, but instead, it was my brother. That in itself is unusual, I didn’t know he still had my number, must be years since he used it.” My eyes crease as I recall the desperation in his voice. “He said he was being held by someone and they were hurting him, and that he needed me to do something for him to make them stop. If I didn’t, there was a risk they could kill him. He told me they’d broken his ribs, beat him, he sounded in pain, as if it even hurt to talk.”
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