by Eliza Marsh
He rose from the bed and winced, most of his body lighting up in pain with each movement. Shuffling slowly to the bathroom, he grimaced when he saw his face for the first time in the mirror. The cut above his eye had finally stopped bleeding, thanks mostly to Jackie’s careful bandaging of the wound. Dark bruises covered the skin around it, looking quite gruesome combined with the leftover blood still lingering on his face. Dean tentatively pressed his fingers into his ribs, determining after a few painful pokes that they probably were not broken, maybe a crack or two, though. He sighed and turned the shower on, ready to stand in there until the hot water ran out.
Twenty minutes later, and now in clean clothes, Dean exited the clubhouse that he had taken refuge at earlier this morning.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the unmarked cop car sitting in front of the garage.
He hurried across the lot and around the side of the garage as Luke, Nash, and the two federal agents came into view. They stopped when he saw them, his fellow bikers looking stern while Agent Diaz smiled confidently at him.
“Mr. Rockwell, I was just asking about you,” the fed chirped, taking a few steps towards Dean. “Seems you had quite an exciting night.”
Dean warily entered the scene, crossing his arms lightly over his chest. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. “Nothing to do with you.”
“On the contrary, I’m here investigating you and your club. So any sort of trouble you get into has everything to do with me.” Agent Diaz continued to look arrogant, happy to have something on these guys for once. Luke glared from behind the two agents at his vice president, not sure what the man had gotten up to last night to warrant the attention of the feds. “Where to start? The bar fight with a rival gang, maybe? Looks like they roughed you up pretty bad.”
“I got this in a completely above board cage match, ask the hundred people in the room.”
This didn’t faze Diaz, who merely put his hands in the pockets of his tan suit slacks. “I asked the several people in the parking lot who witnessed your little brawl.”
“Anybody pressing charges?” Luke asked diplomatically, hoping this wasn’t going to become a real situation.
Diaz turned slightly to look at the club president, his voice still polite and chipper. “Not yet, but the hospital records of the Dead Saints member that got stabbed gives me plenty of probable cause to haul him in.”
“Haul me in for what?” Dean asked, full of hostility. “You just said nobody is pressing charges. You got nothing.”
The smile on Diaz’s face grew, giving the three outlaws a cause for concern. “I’ve got a domestic violence call the local cops responded to last night.” Dean’s eyes widened, confirming to Diaz that he hadn’t been told of the visit by the police. This gave him a substantial advantage to work with. “Yeah, want to tell me what happened after you got home last night?”
“I didn’t lay a hand on her,” Dean growled, taking a step forward. Nash moved to stand next to him, not ready to believe anything the federal agents might say, but also not wanting Dean to make it worse.
“I certainly plan on stopping by to chat with her about it.” Dean tensed, and Nash laid a hand on his shoulder to ground him. Diaz continued, knowing he had the large man rattled. “The local guys were pretty suspicious with what she had to say. They’d like to have a word with you down at the station about it.”
Luke took this moment to step forward, more concerned now than he was with the bar fight. “Is she pressing charges?”
“Not yet, but I suspect she will be.” Diaz grinned as the faces of the bikers hardened, unsure of what to believe. He turned to Dean, looking smugger than ever. “Now, would you like to come with us down to the station voluntarily, or should I call to get an official arrest warrant?”
Dean stared him down, furious that this guy had him cornered. He shifted his eyes to Luke, upset to see a less than supportive look on his face as the man leveled him with a gaze. Squaring his shoulders, Dean nodded his head. “Fine, let’s go.”
Diaz waved an outstretched arm towards the car, gesturing for Dean to lead the way. Stepping up to Nash as they went, Luke sighed as he watched his most loyal club member get into the back of the car.
“Do we know what actually happened?” Nash asked in concern, hoping the agent had played up the domestic situation.
Luke shook his head as the car exited the lot. “No, we didn’t even know he was here until we saw his bike in the lot this morning.”
Looking at this watch, Nash grunted. “I’ll pop by to see Jackie at the diner, find out what’s going on.”
Two motorcycles rolled into the parking lot, causing both men to furrow their brows. The confusion grew when they finally recognized Tyler and Jagger as the men parked their bikes and waved. The two pairs met halfway and traded greetings quickly before Jagger answered the unspoken question.
“Jackie called me last night, said Dean was having some issues.”
Nash and Luke chuckled sarcastically, leaving the other two to trade suspicious glances. Tyler frowned, propping a hand on his hip as he scrutinized the Macon bikers. “Why do I feel like we missed something?”
“Oh, you’ve just missed our charter dissolving into an absolute shitshow,” Nash grumbled, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
Jagger grinned sympathetically at the stocky biker. “Well, we know Dean fell off the wagon, that’s why Jackie called. What else is going on?”
“He might be getting arrested.” Luke’s face was full of annoyance and disappointment at his longtime enforcer. “Either for a bar fight with the Saints or a domestic dispute with Jackie.”
This caught Tyler’s attention, and he was immediately concerned about his best friend’s well-being. “What? When did this happen? Is she okay? Has anyone talked to her?”
Nash shook his head in response to half of the young man’s questions. “She should be at work. I was just about to head over there.” He glanced at Luke, knowing his permission wasn’t needed, but still asking out of respect. “If that’s okay with you, boss.”
Luke nodded, deep in thought. “Of course, take Tyler with you. Jagger and I have a drug problem to solve.”
32
Tyler bolted from his motorcycle, barely letting it settle onto the kickstand before he was off and jogging towards the diner. He had tried to call on his way over but received no answer, so he hoped she was simply too busy to pick up. The bell above the door jingled harshly as he hurried into the restaurant, searching out the familiar head of dark hair. Nash came in behind him, immediately tapping his shoulder and pointing off to the side where Jackie stood taking the order of a young family.
Letting out a huge sigh of relief, he took an inventory of her and was pleased to find that she looked unharmed. Nash directed him to the counter, not wanting to interrupt her while she was busy.
She turned towards them a few minutes later, a look of confusion clouding her face as she spotted Tyler. While Nash or a few of the boys showing up was no surprise, Tyler was supposed to be in Florida for the foreseeable future.
“What are you doing here?” she asked suspiciously even as she hugged him with a happy smile.
“Came up with Jagger. Since you called him and not me.” His voice was accusatory but laced with concern and worry.
Jackie pulled back to give him a look, keeping her arms wrapped around his middle. “Well, it wasn’t an issue you could help me with,” she replied, staying vague in case they didn’t already know about Dean.
“Your boyfriend is snorting heroin and having the cops called for domestic disputes. You should have called me.”
Answered that question, but raised another. “Wait.” She pulled away from him in confusion, a frown marring her face. “How did you know about that?”
Nash twirled a toothpick in his mouth, stolen from a container nearby in an attempt to not pull out a cigarette. “Feds showed up at the clubhouse earlier and took him in for questioning.”
“What?”
she asked loudly, drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons. “Why?”
Tyler waved her off, not interested in discussing Dean’s current situation. “The more important question is: are you okay?”
Rolling her eyes, Jackie crossed her arms against her chest defensively. “Yes, Tyler. I’m fine, and I can handle Dean. We got into a rather loud argument about his new drug habit, that’s all. The neighbors called the cops, not the first time they’ve done it.”
Nash was certainly glad to hear that it had all been exaggerated. Tyler, however, was less convinced. “So? What are you going to do about him?”
She looked to the floor, distractedly scuffing her shoe against the checkered tile. “I don’t know. I told him not to come back if he was going to keep using, that I didn’t want that shit near Ollie. But it is his place, so I can’t really make that demand.” She looked back up at the pair in front of her. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what he decides.”
“You should just come back to Lakeside with me for a while, let him get sorted.”
“No,” she replied immediately and with determination. “I’ve been running for months. Ran to Lakeside after the drama with Dean, ran back here to be safe from rival bikers. I’m tired of running.”
Nash tried to hide a smile at her conviction, attempting to cover it with a cough. “Jagger and Luke are working on a way to get him clean. Give them a few days.”
Jackie sighed, wishing things could just be easy for once. “Yeah, fine. But I swear to God, Nash, if your friend doesn’t get his shit together, I’m done.” She stared up at him, no hesitation in her eyes. “Do you hear me? I’m done with it.”
This time he couldn’t contain the smile that cracked his face. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be sure to let him know.”
Tyler sighed in defeat, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to change her mind. As frustrating as she could sometimes be, her determination was also one of her better traits. He sat down at the counter dramatically, spinning around on the stool to face the kitchen window and the plates of food. “Fine, can I at least get some breakfast then? We got up early to get here at a reasonable hour, and I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Jackie said sarcastically as she grabbed the menu tucked under her arm and smacked him in the chest.
He made a face, but took the menu and laid it in front of him on the countertop. “It’s cute that you think I need this.” He craned his neck up to see a familiar head of gray hair in the back. “Hey, Elaine, can I have my usual, please?”
Elaine’s head popped up in surprise, her face immediately melting into a smile as she saw him. “Hello, my darling boy. Of course you can.” Tyler grinned widely at her as she disappeared to make his order, then turned the grin on Jackie, who merely rolled her eyes and scoffed.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m her favorite.”
Rolling her eyes again, she turned to Nash as he joined Tyler at the counter. “Would you like anything?” she asked him, trying her hardest to ignore her best friend for the moment.
“Just a coffee please, sweetheart,” he replied gently, a small smile at their antics gracing his face. Jackie nodded and bounced off to put in the orders in her pocket and grab the coffee, leaving the two bikers at the counter. Nash glanced at Tyler out of the corner of his eye, his smile turning into a bit of a smirk. “She’s gonna kill you one day.”
“Oh yeah, no doubt.”
33
Jackie pulled into the parking lot of Eastside Mechanics on a mission to find one man. Her earlier conversation with Tyler and Nash had cemented the idea in her head, made her confident this was something she had to do.
She found Taco and Ian sitting at a picnic table near the clubhouse, enjoying a lunch break.
“Hey there, darling,” Ian said with a dazzling smile. “Your dickhead boyfriend isn’t here, went and got himself arrested this morning.” His smug tone suggested he was still quite annoyed with the man.
Jackie couldn’t help but smile at Ian’s petty attitude since she couldn’t deny that she was also a little happy the cops were harassing him. “So I’ve heard,” she replied innocently, snagging a few fries from Taco’s lunch.
The lanky man watched her, selecting his words carefully so as not to be obviously prying. “Luke was trying to keep it under wraps, but rumor has it that the cops got called to a domestic last night.”
Jackie rolled her eyes, not wanting to adopt the image of a battered housewife. “It was nothing. His neighbors call the cops on us all the time. We fight too loud. We fuck too loud. They’re real assholes.”
Choking on the bite of burger he’d just taken, Taco hadn’t expected such a blunt response. Ian, on the other hand, was less surprised, having known Dean for a few years now. “Yeah, it’s never fun sharing a wall with that guy,” he replied thoughtfully.
“Anyways…” Jackie was very uninterested in starting a conversation about Dean’s past sexual exploits. “I’m actually looking for Luke, is he around?”
Taco scrunched his face up in confusion at her question. “What do you want with him?” he asked out of curiosity.
“None of your business,” she replied with raised brows and an edge to her voice.
Effectively deterred from his line of questioning, Taco went back to his burger quietly. Less impressed, Ian continued to stare at her in suspicion. “Are you in trouble? Do you want the club’s lawyer?” She tried to interrupt, but he powered on. “Or maybe you are pressing charges against Dean, is that it?”
Jackie huffed and spun on her heel. “Nevermind, I’ll find him myself!” She had taken five steps towards the clubhouse when Ian’s sing-song voice rang out.
“He’s in the garage,” Ian yelled after her, laughing as she once again turned around and began marching in the opposite direction.
A few minutes later, she finally found the man holed up in the back office behind the reception desk of the garage. His head popped up as she knocked softly on the open door, a look of surprise on his face to see her standing there.
“Hi, can I have five minutes?” she asked quickly. Her nerves gained the advantage over the confidence she was feeling earlier now that she was here. They didn’t exactly have the best relationship, though things were a little better now that she had become a permanent fixture around the club. The pair still had very little interaction and never one on one.
His expression immediately turned to curiosity, wondering what the hell the girlfriend of his long time enforcer could want from him. His first thought was that she was here about Dean’s problem, but she had clearly gone to Jagger for that already, and she looked nervous, not upset.
Luke laid his pen down on the accounting books that he had been pouring over and gestured for her to enter the small office. “I’m all yours,” he said lightly as she moved to perch herself on top of a filing cabinet across from him. He took off his reading glasses, sliding them into the pocket of his tan work shirt, then folded his hands politely in his lap and waited.
Taking a deep breath, Jackie regretted her decision not to bring notes, charts, and a binder full of information to focus his attention on. “So I have this idea…” she trailed off, scrutinizing every micro-expression that flitted across his face in an attempt to figure out what he was thinking. “The diner I work at, ya know the one near downtown that the boys like.” He nodded patiently, well-aware of where she worked. “Yeah, so the owner is in bad health, and the son has taken over as her power of attorney and wants to sell the place to make a quick buck.”
Jackie paused, staring at him as though she expected him to ask a question. When she didn’t continue, he gave her another encouraging nod. “I’m listening.”
“Right, so I want to buy it.”
Luke was at first perplexed by the idea, not familiar enough with the woman to know if she had any background for business or restaurants past her stint as a waitress. Still, it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing some
one had said to him today. “Okay.”
“I know what you’re thinking, and no, I’ve never run a business. But I’ve worked at that diner for years. I know everything about it. I can do the books, the inventory, the ordering.”
“I’m happy for you, but how exactly am I involved in this?”
Jackie scratched the back of her head awkwardly, now at the hard part. “Well, he wants a hundred grand for it, which is a steal for all that land. But the bank will only lend me seventy because I obviously have no assets, no equity, and no stable career. So…”
“So, you were hoping I had thirty grand lying around.” He said it more as a statement than a question, and she sheepishly looked to the floor.
“You, the club, whoever.” He studied her, making her more nervous, so she decided to ramble. “I mean, think of it as an investment. It’s a legal source of income, completely separate from the club, and already established. Plus, it won’t be any extra work for you. You’d just be an investor.”
“How much does it pull in?”
She thought for a second, doing the math in her head. “Straight profit, about two grand a week. So it would only take you a few months to earn your money back. After that, we split the profits.”
Luke tapped his fingers together, twisting back and forth slowly in his swivel chair as he thought. It would be nice to have a steady income, especially with the FBI hanging around lately. An extra few grand a month on top of what they pulled in from the garage would certainly not be a bad thing.
“What’s your motivation in all of this?” he asked curiously, wondering why she would want to take on such a massive endeavor.
Jackie shrugged her shoulders slightly, several reasons coming to her. “Well, babies are expensive, so the extra money would be nice. Plus, a stable income and a real career for me. That and, for example, right now, Dean is sitting in a police station potentially getting arrested. If that happens, I’m suddenly raising a child on a waitress salary.”
