What now? “Uh, okay.”
“Eraser?” he prompts.
“Right. Nice place. They do brisk business.”
“How much can they really make off a bunch of punks living out their Fast and Furious fantasies?” Steer asks.
I give Rock a sure-this-meeting-was-a-good-idea look.
“Money’s not the point,” Z says. “This is the support club.”
“They’re solid guys,” Rooster says. “Not a bunch of clowns.”
“They sure have a lot of enterprises,” Wrath says.
“No different than us,” I point out. “We got Crystal Ball, Furious, and Rock’s shop for our “legit” income. Downstate’s got their laundry and porn.”
“Gotta love that dichotomy,” Dex says.
“Dial it back with the big words,” Stash says.
“Laundry and porn, sounds like a country love ballad.” Jigsaw snaps his fingers and points at Rooster. “Maybe Shelby can write you a song.” He strums an imaginary guitar while Rooster flips him off.
“Except none of their businesses are legit,” Wrath continues, ignoring the fucking around.
“Our bud farm’s never been legit,” Stash says.
“I think what big and scary is trying to say,” Z jerks his thumb in Wrath’s direction, “Is the balance is off. They got all illegitimate avenues of income.”
“They have no legit ways to funnel their illegal earnings,” Teller adds.
Rock drums his fingers over the table. “We already had that framework set up for us when Ruger ‘retired.’”
Damn, in the ten or twelve years since Ruger’s “untimely” death, that’s the first time I’ve heard Rock come close to joking about the darkest years of our club’s history. That he’s doing it in front of downstate, which Sway formed as a protest when we took over this charter, is pretty damn funny. Too bad Sway’s not here for it.
Z scoffs. “Crystal Ball was a seedy joint barely on the right side of legal back then.”
“Right,” Rock agrees. “But the purpose was the same. To wash the money from the cartel and gun-running.” He nods at Wrath. “Furious gave cover for the underground fighting.”
“And the custom bikes were one-hundred percent passion,” Bricks shouts.
“Right.” Rock chuckles then turns serious. “So, what are their legit goals?”
“Didn’t get that far,” I admit.
“That’s our angle,” Z says. “Fighting, racing, and pussy are great, but eventually, they might want something more.”
“Freedom is fucking expensive,” Teller says.
“They need something that resembles legit income to feed their illegal interests.” Stash grins. “If they want to avoid nine-to-fives like we do.”
“They’re not slackers,” I warn. “Remy and Griff hustle hard.”
“What’s their passion?” Rock asks.
“So new-agey, Prez,” Ravage snarks.
Ignoring Rav’s comment, Rock faces me and raises an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“Family. Griff’s on his own, I think. Remy’s raising his sister.”
“That explains a lot,” Rooster mutters.
“Far as I know, he and Griff have been tight for years.”
Dex nods and sits up. “Vapor knows Griff from Juvie.”
“Eraser?” Rock asks. “What drives him?” He adds a wry twist of his lips to go with the pun.
I go over the few details Heidi was able to extract for me. “His wife, Ella. They want to start a family. Heidi said they’re trying to build a cabin in the woods.”
“Ah, see, they’ll fit right in with our little commune upstate,” Z says.
Rock gives him side-eye but, otherwise, ignores the comment.
“They grew up in foster care or something together,” I add.
“That’s how Vapor and Eraser know each other,” Dex confirms.
“Look who’s shaping up to be a good little support club mentor,” Wrath says.
Dex shrugs. “Got no problem with that.”
“All right.” Rock slaps the table. “Murphy’s going to find out more for us.”
Lucky me.
Z nods at Rooster. “You’re not taking off for a few more weeks, right?”
“Yeah, Prez. I’ll go wherever you need me to.”
“You always have a room with us,” Rock says to Rooster, before turning to Dex. “I need you on this, too.”
“No problem, Prez.”
“Priest and some of the other National officers are planning to attend the wedding.” Rock drops that little bomb without hesitation. “So, I want something substantial to report while he’s here.”
“I’m so offended.” Wrath’s eyes widen in mock indignation. “Priest didn’t get his ass up here for my wedding.”
Rock blows out a breath and rolls his eyes Wrath’s way. “Mine either, brother.”
“This is your fault.” Wrath throws an accusatory look Z’s way.
Z holds up his hands. “We had the decency to elope. Priest came for Sway’s release from the hospital.”
I’m not sure that’s actually how it went down, but Z gives me a devilish grin. “Guess this means Murphy’s special.”
Fucking great.
Twenty-Two
Heidi
The early morning sun practically blinds me as I hurry up the hospital steps.
Technically, I’m not late for my clinical, but I still need to stop at my locker and change into my scrubs.
Outside the locker room, something clamps down hard on my arm, yanking me sideways.
“Bryce? What the hell? Get off me.” I squirm, trying to free myself, but he drags me into an empty lounge, flipping on the lights and slamming the door behind us.
“I need to talk to you.” He finally releases my arm, and I back up a few steps. “Calm the fuck down.”
“Talk doesn’t involve touching.” My arm stings, but I don’t want to rub it or show any weakness in front of him, even though inside, I’m freaking the fuck out.
“We’re running out of time. Did you talk to Dawn yet?”
“About what?”
“Your favorite episode of My Little Pony. Don’t act like a dumb twat. What the fuck do you think?”
The venom in his voice doesn’t shock me as much as it should. He’s clearly unraveling. “Have you lost your mind?”
As if I hadn’t even spoken, he shoves his phone in my face. At first, I’m not sure what I’m looking at. Blurry nighttime photo. Bright spots of overhead parking lot lamps make it hard to decipher the focus of the image.
Then the lines and shadows make sense.
“You sick, creepy stalker!” I grab for his phone, but he yanks it out of my reach. “When did you take that?”
“Followed you one night. You’re so oblivious, you never even noticed me. The others were a surprise bonus for me.”
How the hell did he follow me?
What others?
He smirks at his phone. “I had no idea you were some dirty biker whore.”
Super. In high school kids, called me biker trash. Now I’ve been elevated to biker whore.
Please tell me, universe, why do I keep trying to fit in with a world determined to hate me?
This is the last thing I need with everything else on my plate.
He turns the phone my way again, letting me get a good look at the grainy photo. It’s dark but you can still clearly make out my face. And the fact that I’m bent over Murphy’s bike and it looks like he’s fucking me from behind.
“Oh wait, there’s more.” Bryce practically cackles with glee. “Saint Heidi sucking face—"
“Give me that.” This time, I succeed in snapping the phone out of his hands. It’s worse than I thought. Blake and I kissing. Blake and I at the racetrack kissing—his Lost Kings MC skull and crown patch front and center. There’s even a few of Blake, Rooster, and Dex talking to Eraser. Then back to a dozen or so pictures of me bent over Blake’s bike. Bryce obviously enjoyed that
pose the most. How come I never realized that top showed off so much of my boobs?
Heat sears my skin from cheeks to chest.
“Nothing happened,” I mumble. Even though I don’t need to explain myself or my actions to this jackass. I fooled around with my fiancé in the parking lot behind his gym, and I went to a racetrack with him. Big deal.
“Yeah, I was disappointed you two didn’t just go at it,” His sour breath assaults my nostrils as he leans over and taps the screen, “But it looks like he railed you good in this one.”
“So, you’re a pervert as well as a lazy jackass. Congrats.” I squeeze the phone harder, wanting to slam it into Bryce’s smug face.
“Go ahead.” He jerks his chin toward the phone. “Toss it out the window. You think I don’t have those backed up in ten different spots?”
“If you only applied this much effort to doing your work.”
He shrugs. “I saw an opportunity.” He grabs the phone and stares at the screen again. “You’ve got nice tits.”
“As if I give a shit about your opinion.”
The moment of interest is gone, and he pushes the phone in my face again. “We don’t have a lot of time. If I don’t graduate on time, my parents are going to cut me off.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I can’t afford that right now.”
Since my brother had to basically support me when he was a kid himself, I’m having trouble mustering any sympathy for this twenty-year old twatwaffle who seems to be allergic to hard work. “Cry me a river.”
Malice twists his features. “Finish my part of the project and get my grade for me, or I’ll send this photo to the dean and every future employer you ever hope to have. No one’s gonna hire some whore—”
I cut him off by laughing in his face. “You’re a dead man.”
He reels back. Clearly not the response he expected. “What?”
I lower my voice, but don’t move any closer so he has to lean in to hear me. “Never mind that I don’t have the time or inclination to deal with this right now. Do you have any idea who my family is?”
He shrugs. “Some scummy bikers.”
Fury makes my blood boil that this miserable excuse for a human would talk about my family that way. “You must not have grown up in Empire. But that’s okay. You’ll find out soon enough who you’re dealing with.”
His confident, arrogant facade crumbles at the edges. “What are you talking about?”
I lean in closer and spit out my words. “When my family finishes with you, you’ll wish your grades were the worst of your problems.”
I’m bluffing.
Sort of.
This has gone on too long. I have to tell someone.
My first instinct—tell my brother. Problem is, he’s just as likely to kill Bryce as Murphy. Maybe more.
Uncle Wrath.
Who am I kidding? Wrath’s likely to kill Bryce, too.
I hate Bryce, but I’m not sure if he deserves to die.
I need to talk to Murphy first.
I should have told him what was happening right away.
“To make it even sweeter,” Bryce rubs his hands together like we’re haggling over the price of a bag of figs at the most deranged market ever. “If you don’t do it this week, I’ll send the photo to your boyfriend’s boss.”
Oh, please do.
Maybe Bryce deserves a Darwin award after all.
I can’t help it. Laughter spills out of me. Insane, bordering-on-bloodthirsty laughter.
“What’s so funny? Bet he gets fired for fucking around when he’s supposed to be working.”
“You really are an idiot. I hate to spoil the surprise. But my fiancé is part owner of the gym. My uncle is one of the other owners. Go ahead and send it to him. You’ll probably get the beating that’s coming your way even faster.”
If they don’t kill you first.
His face pales slightly.
“That’s right.” I tap my finger against my chin and draw out the word to mock him even further. “Some of your douchebag-bro friends work out there, don’t they? I’m sure they can clue you in about my Uncle Wrath.”
He snorts. “Who calls themselves that?”
“His biker brothers gave him that road name. Don’t feel left out; you’re about to find out why.” Over the years, I may not have been Wrath’s favorite person in the world—and deservedly so—but I’m still club family. Someone threatening me is an offense against the entire club, and Wrath will react accordingly.
Still, I probably shouldn’t get too cocky. Maybe I should let Bryce think I’m actually worried about his silly threat. That way the beating will be even more of a shock when it finally happens.
He also snapped photos of the brothers, something that’s absolutely not tolerated in the MC world. On our trip to Texas, I watched the brothers beat the ever-loving crap out of someone for sneaking photos of them when we all stopped for gas. Bryce snapping photos and trying to blackmail an old lady with them? His punishment won’t be gentle.
“You know what? You’re right. Maybe we’ll keep this between us for now,” I say, pretending to reconsider his threat.
Bryce nods as if he thinks he’s regained control of the situation. “You still need to find a job after graduation. And you won’t be able to once I start sending these to every hospital and doctor’s office in New York State.”
Besides the irritation and indignity of this entire situation, another thought worms its way into my mind. Do I need to worry about finding a job? Blake insists we’re doing fine financially. My brother’s all but confirmed that. Blake’s made it clear he wants to add to our family sooner rather than later.
I don’t doubt Bryce will follow through on his threat. Even though it’s not fair, the thought of having to explain, humiliate, and embarrass myself through every job interview for the next couple of years gives me pause.
Wait a damn minute.
Fuck that.
I didn’t work this hard to let some lazy halfwit predator scare me out of my plans for my future. If and when I decide I’d rather stay home with my kids, that’s a decision I’ll make with my husband. Not out of fear of my reputation being smeared.
“Let me see the photos again.” I hold out my hand and attempt to appear meek.
“We don’t have time to screw around, Heidi.” He hands over the phone gingerly. “I told you they’re backed up in several places.”
“I believe you.” I stare at the first—and probably worst—photo. There’s a coy smile on my lips. I’m laughing, knowing the effect I have on Blake in that position. He’s completely focused on me, desire and possession written all over his face. A raw, private, intimate moment between us preserved forever. Instead of shame, pride—okay maybe that’s not quite the right word—washes over me. Blake and I have something no one, not even Bryce with his silly threats, can destroy.
“This one is my favorite.” I hand the phone back to my blackmailer. “Murphy and I are getting married in a few weeks. Think you can send me that one? I’d like to get it blown up and give it to him as a wedding present.”
Bryce’s jaw drops.
Delicious satisfaction follows me all the way down the hallway.
Twenty-Three
Heidi
Home. God, I can’t wait to get home.
My day didn’t exactly improve after the Bryce blackmail episode. A patient almost threw up on me in the fluoroscopy room. The tech I’ve been shadowing this semester assured me that almost never happens. I must be lucky. Not that being a mom doesn’t come with plenty of opportunities for bodily fluid clean up, but Alexa’s mine. It’s totally different—and much worse—when it’s a stranger’s vomit you’re wiping off your shoes.
A full body shudder of disgust ripples through me. I really need to get out of here and take a long, hot shower. Then I’ll decide what to do about Bryce’s idiotic threats.
Oof!
I slam into someone and almost fall on my ass. Shaking my hair out of my face, I reach out
to steady the person I almost knocked over and realize I recognize him. “Lucas! Oh my God, what are you doing here?”
Axel’s best friend barely survived the same explosion that killed Axel. The last time I saw Lucas, he’d been in this hospital. Shame warms my face. Other than a few brief texts, we haven’t kept in contact much.
He’s using a cane and scars mar the entire right side of his face and right arm. Otherwise, he looks good. The fact that he’s walking is a damn miracle.
He bends down to give me a quick, gentle hug. “I’m only here for some follow-up. How’ve you been?”
“Good. Crazy.” I gesture toward the hallway. “I was just heading out.”
“Grab some coffee with me?”
Although I’m dying to go home, I can’t walk away. Lucas had always been a good friend to Axel and to me. Guilt already weighs me down that I haven’t reached out to him in so long. What’s a cup of coffee and a couple minutes of conversation? “Sure.”
I’m thankful he suggests we go to the Starbuck’s across the street instead of staying in the hospital. Plenty of hospital staff hang out here, but at least I can take a few gulps of fresh air on the way over.
“So, you finished your degree?” He asks. “Working now?”
“Almost. I’m still finishing one of my clinicals.” Bitching to Axel’s best friend about how much moving to Alaska screwed up my academic schedule seems pointless and unfair at this point.
After we have coffees in hand and pick out a quiet table in the back corner, he glances at my hands, zeroing in on my engagement ring. “Getting married again?”
I choke and almost spit out a scalding sip of coffee. It burns all the way down while I figure out what to say.
I decide to go with the straight truth. “Yes. Soon.”
“Murphy?”
I barely hold back an eye-roll. I can only imagine the things Axel told Lucas. “Yes.”
He nods. “Axel used to be so smug about getting between the two of you.” He sips his coffee and stares out the window. “Good for you.”
Huh? That seems like a strange attitude for Axel’s best friend. “What are you talking about?”
White Lies Page 16
