I forced a bright smile that didn’t reach my eyes, “But I’m already dead,” I reminded her and she frowned deeply.
“What they did to you was wrong, Tori,” she declared, coming up to me and taking my arms. “No one should ever do that to their own kin.”
“It was nothing less than I deserved,” I murmured, ignoring the sharp ache that always came when I thought of them.
“We’ll agree to disagree on that,” Jean replied, smiling tightly as she stared up at me. “But back to what you’ve been up to,” she mentioned, giving me a pointed glance.
“It’s nothing,” I dismissed, stepping back. “I need to clean the equipment.”
“You need to be careful, Tori,” she cautioned. “The Rebels have deep roots here and they’ve done a lot of good for this town. Don’t be quick to cast blame at them.” I nodded, not looking at her. “Please, Tori, be careful…..for me.” My gaze jerked to hers and for the first time I noticed how tired she looked.
“Oh, Jean, I’m sorry.” I hugged her, feeling her stiffen in surprise at my unusual display of affection. “You don’t need my troubles,” I apologized, letting her go as quickly as I’d grabbed her. “What can I do for you?”
“You can be the smart girl I know you are,” she admonished and my forehead wrinkled. “Don’t go ostracizing the best lead you have on the Rebels,” she advised and I started to shake my head.
“You don’t mean –” I stopped unable to even say it.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Cord Hayes has his own issues with the Rebels, but I can promise you, he doesn’t tolerate drugs.”
“I’ve noticed,” I mentioned, rubbing my arms. “But that’s also why he’ll never help me.”
“You’d be surprised,” Jean replied. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“You heard him though. He thinks the club is innocent.”
“And they probably are,” Jean chided. “But that doesn’t mean someone isn’t using them to move drugs in Friendly, and that’s what you have to find out.” I exhaled, already knowing what was coming. “With the assistance of one Cord Hayes.”
“The man who hates my guts.”
“That just means he’ll want to get it taken care of as quickly as possible.”
“I think you’re just trying to put a guard dog on me,” I grumbled and she smiled beatifically.
“God works in mysterious ways,” she answered as I glared. “Try not to make it any harder for him.”
“I don’t,” I protested, my hands on my hips. “You’re the queen of meddling.” I waved one arm. “Obviously.”
“I would never,” Jean replied with a sly grin. “I just offer well intended advice.”
“Uh huh, and when are you going to take some of that advice yourself?” I questioned. “Maybe taking some time off because you have cancer.” My voice broke and I had to glance down. “It’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to face this. You’re a good person.”
“So are you, Tori.”
I shook my head, glancing up at her. “Not like you,” I muttered fiercely. “Not like you.”
“They want to do a double mastectomy followed by a couple of rounds of chemo and radiation.” I paced as she spoke and she watched me patiently. “It’s treatable, Tori. They believe I’ll make a full recovery.”
“A double mastectomy?”
“I’m old, Tori. I don’t need the saggy old flesh sacks,” she retorted in amusement. “It’s not like they’re doing me any good. Damn things turned on me.”
“But the scars,” I mumbled, not wanting to face the bigger implications of how sick she truly was, choosing to think about after she was healed instead. “They’re nasty scars.”
“Which is why you’ll give me gorgeous tattoos to cover them up,” she answered, ignoring me as I shook my head frantically. “Oh yes, Tori. I don’t know anyone else I’d trust to do it.”
“Jacob,” I suggested desperately and she rolled her eyes. “He could do it,” I argued weakly, already knowing I’d never let him.
“He could. That doesn’t mean I want him too,” she contended and I almost smiled. “You on the other hand,” she grabbed my hand, stilling me, “You have an incredible talent. I’d be honored if you’d do this for me, Tori.” She squeezed my hand as I looked up at the ceiling. “It’s a request, one I hope you’ll consider.” I closed my eyes, knowing I would give her the moon if she asked. “I guess I should leave you to clean the equipment,” she offered and I nodded, grateful for the reprieve. “You’ll stay the night?” She asked hopefully and even though I’d had no intention of staying, I found myself nodding. “Good. I worry about you.”
She left the room, going upstairs to the little apartment above the shop, and I sank into her chair, my fingers rubbing the edge of the table as I contemplated her request.
She wanted me to work with a guy who clearly despised me and had threatened to kill me not an hour earlier. I couldn’t help but feel a tiny spurt of excitement at the idea. My curiosity about him hadn’t abated, instead it had only grown with each new revelation, and I wondered what it was like to have such unshakable faith in other people.
The front door opened and I spun in the chair, somehow unsurprised to see Cord standing there. “I forgot my keys,” he muttered, favoring his leg as he strode to the table. “You’re still here.”
I answered the unspoken question, remembering Jean’s advice. “I need to clean the equipment,” I explained, trying hard not to antagonize him, since it came so naturally. “It’s the agreement I have with Jean.” He grabbed a set of keys off the workbench, but didn’t move to leave. “She lets me stay in the storage room occasionally. In return, I clean up.” I leaned forward and he mimicked me automatically. “She hates cleaning equipment,” I confided.
“Somehow I’m not surprised by that,” Cord replied, his expression slightly less forbidding. “Tedious, I imagine.”
“It is,” I agreed, twisting back and forth in the seat. “It occurred to me that maybe we can help one another.”
“Help each other?” He stared at me suspiciously. “Are you kidding?”
“We want the same thing,” I mentioned and he shook his head.
“I seriously doubt that, princess.”
I scowled. “My name isn’t princess or Amazon or Xena,” I said sharply. “If we’re going to work together, you’re going to need to call me by my name.”
“We’re not going to work together, sweetheart.”
My eyes flashed and I stood up. “Drugs are being distributed in Friendly. Are you telling me you’re okay with that?”
“No, but it’s not your business to handle, sweetheart,” he said harshly. “The club will take care of it.”
“The same club who is taking a cut?”
“They’re not.”
“And I’d love to take you at your word, but common sense tells me otherwise.”
He snorted. “Common sense? More like you overheard a drug dealer spouting lies to a potential buyer.”
“That’s not all,” I told him and his eyes narrowed. “I found a matchbook from the Crazy Horse at a meth lab.”
“It’s a strip club,” he scoffed, “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but drug dealers go there too.”
“Or it’s a contact,” I argued, crossing my arms. “It’s suspicious.”
“Only to someone who’s ignorant about the club.”
“Then educate me.”
“I don’t have time.”
“Then you won’t mind me satisfying my curiosity.”
“Stay away from the club and the Crazy Horse,” he warned, stepping into my space. “I can’t protect you if you cause problems for the club.”
“I didn’t ask for your protection and I definitely don’t need it,” I retorted and he shook his head.
“I’ll look into the Crazy Horse,” he finally said and I nodded, not bothering to tell him I was planning to make a trip there myself. “I mean it, Tori. You don’t know what you�
��re getting yourself into.”
“Careful, big boy, I might start to think you care.”
“That would be a mistake.”
I looked up through lowered eyelashes, “For you or me?”
He stalked past me, headed to the door, and I didn’t think he was going to answer. He hesitated at the door, not turning around as he said, “Both.”
Chapter Nine
Cord
A wet nose nudged my cheek and I groaned, pushing it away. Maisy was insistent though and when her tongue got involved, I sat up. “I expect you to buy me dinner first, girl,” I told her, affectionately rubbing the side of her neck as her tongue lolled.
After a few more pats, I scratched my chest and grabbed a shirt, stepping into the hall. The scent of bacon cooking lured me to the kitchen, but I slowed as I heard a feminine giggle.
“You smell good,” Creed told Sloan, or at least I hoped that was who he was complimenting.
“You mean the bacon smells good,” she countered and he made a disagreeing sound.
“Nope, I’m pretty sure it’s you.” There was a lingering silence and I propped my shoulder on the wall, figuring I’d give them a moment. “I love you being here,” he mentioned, his voice slightly muffled. “Every day I was locked up, I dreamed about this and now,” he paused and I pinched the bridge of my nose, waiting, “And now, I’m scared I’ll wake up and realize it really is all a dream.”
“It’s not a dream, Creed,” Sloan promised. “It’s our life and we get to live it every single day.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Mind what?”
“The dogs I rescue, my brothers, the club and all the shit that goes with it? You don’t think it’ll be too much?”
There was a pause and I found myself leaning forward slightly, curious about her answer. “Yeah, I think some days it’ll be too much, but those won’t be most days. Nothing’s perfect, Creed, but if we can find the good in the bad, we’ll be okay.”
“I’m not exactly sure what I did to deserve you, but I will get on my knees every day for the rest of my life in gratitude.”
“On your knees, huh? I like the sound of that,” she replied naughtily and I cleared my throat hastily, bumping my shoulder into the wall to announce my arrival.
“Something smells good,” I observed and then remembered Creed’s comment. “And its not the cook.”
Sloan laughed as Creed tapped me on the shoulder with his fist. “Eavesdropping, big brother?”
“You learn the most interesting things that way.” I dragged a chair from the table, sitting down before belatedly asking, “Can I help?”
“You can clean up,” Sloan said quickly and I raised an eyebrow, to which she shrugged. “I hate dishes.”
“Probably because you make so many,” I informed her and a towel snapped by my face. “Bacon smells good,” I added hastily, attempting a smile, the motion feeling rusty as scar tissue pulled in my cheek.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she stated, plopping a plate in front of me. “Your daddy had some damn good genes.”
“Hey, whatcha got cooking, good looking?” Crew caroled as he sauntered in the kitchen. He bussed her cheek, eyeing the table before scooping half the bacon on his plate.
“What the hell? Youngest does not go first,” I scolded, poking him with my fork. He jerked his hand back, staring at me as I took his plate. “You weren’t raised in a barn.”
“Exactly,” Sloan agreed, smoothly taking the plate from my hand. “The cook gets first dibs.”
I pressed my lips together as Creed tried to hide his laugh behind a cough, but it was no use as Crew started to grin when Sloan crunched down on one of the slices of bacon.
“Assholes,” I muttered, feeling my lips tug upwards. “None of you have any respect for age, or service to your country,” I stated, in a failed attempt to guilt them. “It’s a shame.”
Sloan placed another piece of bacon between her lips and bit down. “So good,” she moaned dramatically. “Mmmhmmm.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Creed murmured as Crew and I shared a look.
“You’re coming to my initiation, right, Cord?” Crew asked eagerly, not seeming to notice the suddenly awkward silence.
“We’re going to need a bigger table,” Sloan announced, dispersing some of the bacon on her plate to ours. “The three of you are practically knocking knees.”
Crew wasn’t deterred by her abrupt subject change, tenacious as he said, “You’ll be there. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Guilt hit me hard and I glanced down at the table. I hadn’t really been there for anything, yet here he was almost begging me to be there when he joined the club. Creed opened his mouth, but I gave a slight shake of my head. “I’ll be there,” I promised and heard Creed exhale as Crew smiled broadly. “I just need to have a word with Johnny first.” A nervous sound came from Sloan but she didn’t say anything. “I’ve got physical therapy this morning, but I’ll swing by the club this afternoon.”
“I’ll let him know,” Creed muttered, exchanging a glance with Sloan. “Crew, you’re at the garage today with Clutch.” His tone demanded obedience and Crew nodded reluctantly. “I know you want to find who beat Deacon and we will, but no more lone ranger shit. I won’t lose you too.”
“Lone Ranger had Tonto,” Crew mumbled under his breath and I could see Creed about to snap back when Sloan started chattering.
“Supposedly, the Lone Ranger is based on a man named Bass Reeves, a slave who fought in the Civil War and then went on to become a deputy marshal in the lawless West. It’s said he couldn’t be bought,” she rattled as we stared at her in bemusement.
“While fascinating, I’ve got to go,” I interrupted, standing up and Sloan jumped up with me. I stared at her curiously and she pointed to the kitchen cabinet.
“I’ll get your pain meds,” she said, walking to the cabinet where she’d stashed them, out of reach of Kara and baby Deacon.
“I don’t need’em,” I answered roughly, tasting the lie, but unwilling to retract it. She stood there uncertainly as Creed ran his hand over his mouth. An unexpected stab of guilt caught me off guard. “I don’t like taking pills,” I explained and she nodded in understanding.
“Do you really want to talk to Johnny while you’re in pain?” Creed mentioned lightly and I glared at him.
“I definitely don’t want to do it hyped on pain meds,” I retorted and Crew’s lips twitched. “I can handle it.” Creed didn’t respond, his look saying it all, and I shook my head in aggravation. “I get what you’re saying, Creed, but this is Johnny.”
“Here,” Sloan thrust something in my hand and I took it automatically. “Compromise.”
“What is it?” I asked, rolling the plastic bottle in my hand.
“Ibuprofen,” she replied. “Take a few before and after your physical therapy for the pain. It won’t mess with your head but it should take the edge off the pain.”
The pills rattled when I shook the bottle and she stared at me determinedly. “Thank you,” I finally said, casting a glance at Creed. “Little hen.”
Her forehead wrinkled but I was already moving to the door. “Did he just call me a hen?”
“Yeah,” Creed answered, a smile in his voice.
“Should I be insulted?”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure it was a compliment,” he told her before I was out of earshot.
***
“Goddamn it,” I groaned, hauling myself in the Blazer, my leg throbbing while the rest of me shook. I cranked the engine and rested my head against the seat, too exhausted to do more.
The little bottle of pills taunted me until I finally caved and shook out six, swallowing them dry. I sighed, closing my eyes as I waited for them to take effect. I wasn’t looking forward to the meeting with Johnny. I hadn’t seen him since the day Ashley and the baby had died. I rubbed my
chest, the ache not caused by anything physical, but psychological.
Facing Johnny meant admitting my own role in Ashley’s death, something I’d studiously avoided for years. It meant facing a man I respected as much as my own father and confessing I was to blame for the death of his only child.
Opening my eyes, I stared sightlessly at the parking lot, my mind playing an endless loop of those last few days with her, picking apart all the signs I’d missed or chose to ignore, denying the truth even Clutch had seen. Johnny and I had never seen eye to eye about Ashley’s addiction, butting heads more often than not about the reasons why. The only thing we had agreed on was getting her clean, but even that sparked arguments.
Sometimes, I wondered if Ashley OD’d that day in an effort to silence us and the never-ending fights over her recovery. A bitter laugh escaped me at the idea of recovery. I wasn’t sure anymore if there was any such thing, if Ashley had ever been clean or just gotten better at hiding the signs.
My phone vibrated and I glanced at it, seeing a missed call from an unfamiliar number along with a voicemail. The call must have come in while I was in physical therapy since I’d left the phone in the Blazer. I closed my eyes against the glare from the sun and listened to the message.
“There’s something you need to see,” I heard, and my eyes popped open at the familiar husky voice. “Call me back. I don’t text,” Tori continued and I heard her hesitate. “I will hunt you down if you don’t call me. You need to see this.” The message ended then, no goodbye, just an abrupt click and I tossed my phone down.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath and debated calling her back. “She can wait,” I decided, putting the Blazer in gear and leaving the parking lot.
Chapter Ten
Tori
I made my morning trek to the cemetery, noticing the kid was there again, and I hesitated for a second, something nagging at me. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just because I’d seen him every day for weeks.
I skirted around him, unwilling to engage even to satisfy my curiosity. I found myself taking the long way, knowing exactly why I did it, but still felt a stab of disappointment when I didn’t see him standing there. I padded closer to the grave, my steps slowing the closer I came to it. I shouldn’t poke my nose into his life, into the skeletons he kept watch over, but I felt myself being lured closer, needing to know.
Outcast (Southern Rebels MC Book 2) Page 6
