“Tori, who are you?” She asked right back, as she stared at the baby Sloan held.
“I’m Jailbait,” she introduced and Tori froze for a second.
“God I hope that’s a nickname and not a status,” she murmured and I leaned toward her.
“Nickname.”
“What the hell kind of nickname is that?” She questioned when Creed came up and put his arm around Sloan. “Oh, it’s starting to make sense.” Creed heard her and scowled. “What are you doing with Norah’s baby?” Tori asked bluntly and Sloan’s eyes lit up.
“You know Norah?”
“We’ve met,” she answered and pointed to the baby. “She showed me a picture. Hard to forget a kid that cute.”
“Isn’t he?” Sloan made a kissing noise at the baby and he giggled. “Huh, baby Deacon, you’re going to be a heartbreaker.”
“We’re looking for a woman name Felisha that works at the Crazy Horse, know her?” Tori asked and Sloan tilted her head, thinking.
“Brown hair with streaks?” She questioned and Tori shrugged.
“No idea what she looks like, but her butt’s about the same size as mine,” she replied and Sloan looked down as Tori twisted around.
“Hmm, no I don’t think its who I’m thinking of,” she said, humming. “Here, hold him, and I’ll go ask in the back.” Tori barely had time to grab Deacon before Sloan was disappearing down the hall.
“Trusting little thing, isn’t she?” Tori asked rhetorically, settling Deacon on her hip as he stared at her curiously. I stared at them for a minute, emotions knotting up my insides as a series of what ifs played out in my head. “You want to hold him?” Tori’s question brought me back to Earth with a thump.
“No,” I answered curtly, turning back to the bar and gesturing for a drink.
Micah poured one, watching me the entire time. “I still don’t know your status,” she said bluntly.
“Probationary,” I answered, tipping the glass to her.
“Johnny always was a softie,” she replied, shaking her head and I grinned mockingly.
“We have differing ideas of soft.”
Whatever her response might have been was lost as Sloan came back, a piece of paper in her hand. “She was roommates with Gloria for awhile, but she stopped paying the rent so Gloria kicked her out,” Sloan mentioned, shaking her head. “Naomi let her sleep on the couch for a few weeks but she kept having some scuzzy guys over so she finally told her to leave.”
“Where is she now?” I interrupted, afraid this might go on for days.
“That pay by the hour, day, week motel on the highway,” Sloan checked the paper. “Room 111.”
“Thank you,” Tori said when I didn’t speak. “We’ll go talk to her. None of them are going to warn her?” She nodded to the back where Sloan had come from and Sloan shook her head forcefully.
“No, I told them it was club business and I think they’re all pretty pissed with her anyway. Seems like some of their stuff might have gone missing when she was around.”
Tori nodded knowingly. “Yeah, sounds right.” She went to hand Deacon back and he started to fuss.
“I think he likes you,” Sloan cooed, rocking him so he’d quiet. “You like Tori? Is that it?”
“I think he just likes my jacket,” she mentioned, indicating a wet spot on the leather.
“Can we go now?” I stood deliberately, Sloan disappearing behind my bulk. “I’d like to get this taken care of in time to watch the game tonight.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Tori replied, mock saluting me.
I gave her a quick frown, and turned to Creed and Sloan. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“We’re having pot roast,” Sloan mentioned eagerly. “You’re welcome to come, Tori.”
“She’s busy,” I answered for her, taking Tori’s arm as I towed her to the door.
“That was rude,” Tori commented, shaking off my hold when we got outside. “Oh, but what am I saying, that’s your thing.”
“It’s not my thing,” I said gruffly. “You don’t want to come.”
“And how do you know?” Tori questioned, stopping abruptly, forcing me to stop as well. “Maybe I love pot roast.”
“But do you love company?” I asked, silencing her. “That’s what I thought. Now let’s go.” I motioned to the Blazer, but Tori didn’t move.
“I’ll walk.” She waved her arm. “It’s not far.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “It’s at least two miles.” I pointed at the passenger door. “I’ll drive.”
“I’m good,” she said again, easing back a step. “I’ll meet you there.” My forehead wrinkled as my brows dipped toward my nose.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I watched as she skittered back a few more steps. “Get in the fucking Blazer, Tori.”
“No,” she replied, eyeing the damn thing like it was going to swallow her whole. “I’ll walk.”
She moved further away and I took a step toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I finally said, trying to figure out why the hell she wouldn’t get in the vehicle with me.
“I’d like to see you try,” she retorted, full of bravado.
“Then, get in,” I tried again, gesturing to the Blazer. “We’ll be there in three minutes.”
She shook her head, her lips white at how hard she pressed them together and I started to get the impression it wasn’t my driving she had an issue with. “You want to go in a different vehicle?” I asked, striving for patience, but again she shook her head. I ran my hand over my head, tugging on my hair. “Look, Tori, I can’t walk two miles, not on this leg, not now. Can you just….get in the car.”
“No, I really can’t,” she replied, her long legged stride almost a jog as she turned and headed in the direction of the motel.
“You’ve got to fucking be kidding me,” I muttered to myself, going around to the driver’s side. “She’s nuttier than I thought.”
Chapter Twelve
Tori
I walked swiftly, my legs eating up the ground as I worked off the nervous anxiety that had filled me when Cord had offered to drive. My hand tapped against my leg with every step as I focused on my breathing.
“It’s just a car, it’s just a simple vehicle that transports a person from point A to point B,” I reminded myself to no avail. It never seemed to matter how many times I repeated it, I still panicked when confronted with getting in a vehicle.
I exhaled shakily as I came within sight of the motel. I expected Cord to be inside already, interrogating Felisha, so when I saw him leaning against the boxy old Blazer, my steps faltered. He didn’t move, watching me with a hooded gaze as I came closer.
When I was within earshot, I asked, “You didn’t go inside?”
He shook his head, his expression never changing as he said, “I couldn’t remember the room number.” I didn’t believe the lie for a second, but didn’t call him on it.
“How you want to do this?” He asked, meeting up with me as I veered toward the motel building. I almost tripped in my shock, grimacing when he said, “If you go down, don’t expect me to save you.” I managed to catch myself, but put my arm out to halt him.
“You’re not just going to go busting down the door, shoving your way in with your Rebel kutte and demand answers?” I asked disbelievingly.
“Do you think that will work? Because I’m not against that approach.”
I shook my head. “It’ll get some answers but I doubt it’ll lead us to the bigger fish.”
“I want the big fish. I want the bastard who thought it was a good idea to insult the Southern Rebels,” he snarled, his expression so fierce I leaned back.
“Then we do it my way,” I answered and he shot me a questioning glance. I shrugged off my jacket, handing it to him. “I’m just a girl looking for a fix,” I told him, rolling my shoulders before moving forward.
This time he stopped me.
“Are you good?” He asked awkwardly, casting his gaze everywhere b
ut at me. “To do this?”
“Trust me,” I replied, patting his hand. “I was born to do this.” His hand fell away and we moved in unison to room 111. “I thought you didn’t remember?” I commented lightly and he stepped back.
“Just following your lead.” He positioned himself out of sight of the door. “Yell if you need me,” he mentioned, his hand going to his thigh, kneading the muscle.
“You trust me to do this?” I asked, my knuckles resting on the door, as I licked my lips. I didn’t know why his answer was so important to me, but it was. I needed to know.
“I trust you want these guys as badly as I do,” he replied, not answering the question, but giving me my answer nonetheless.
I curved my shoulders, tapping on the door lightly but rapidly, almost hunched against the frame. I kept knocking, the sound almost a nervous one.
“What?” The door jerked open to reveal a woman with bloodshot eyes, the strap of her tank top hanging off her shoulder. “Who are you?”
I held up the packet Cord had slipped me and she snapped, “Where did you get that? What are you doing here?”
I scratched my arms, keeping my head down. “I just need a fix.”
“I can’t help you,” she muttered, starting to push the door shut, but my boot blocked it.
“Please,” I said, keeping my voice hoarse. “Just give me a number or something.”
“Look,” she shook her head, her shoulder dipping down. “I feel ya, but no.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes though so I pushed harder.
“It’s been a few days,” I hated the pleading note I injected in my voice, a reminder of my past, but it seemed to work. “I just started working at the Crazy Horse. I need something to get me through.”
She relented slightly. “How do I know you’re not a narc?”
I twisted my arm, flashing the pockmarked scars, and then spread my fingers so she’d see the reddened area where I’d jabbed myself on the walk over. Old scars meant old habits but new marks were more believable. “You know any narcs that have these?”
“Come in,” she said, pulling the door open wider. “Not out here.”
I stepped inside, flashing a brief glance over my shoulder to where Cord remained out of sight, and hoped we finally had a decent lead.
“He won’t just meet with you,” she warned, grabbing her phone with one hand as she shook out a cigarette. “He’s a real careful guy. Gotta be around here.”
“Why?”
“Rebels don’t like drugs on their turf,” she answered, missing my sudden shock. “They find out you’re using and you got a one way ticket out of town.” Her hand shook as she attempted to light the cigarette, until it finally caught and she took a long drag. “I’ve seen it happen.”
“I thought those guys were part of it,” I said, sitting down on the only chair, ignoring the stained upholstery. I didn’t want her to remember my height, since it was a dead giveaway. I rubbed my hands together, keeping up the twitchy withdrawal act. “Like isn’t that their logo on the bag?” I asked, pretending to be clueless.
“No,” she answered, her gaze sharpening slightly. “You’re new so I’ll warn you. Don’t believe everything you hear or see when it comes to the Rebels. The only thing you need to remember is they don’t like drugs.”
I nodded, keeping my eyes wide, and she went back to her phone. My gaze swept around the room, drifting over piles of clothes and crumpled fast food bags. I took a deep breath when I spotted her kit on the nightstand, a hypodermic needle and spoon, scattered among the rest of the clutter.
“He’s gonna meet you as a favor to me, ‘kay?” Her words drew my gaze and I nodded, making myself look pathetically grateful and she swung her head. “Don’t mess it up and you owe me,” she added and I nodded eagerly. She glanced away from me and then back. “He likes favors. Be nice to him and he’ll take care of you.” I didn’t allow my distaste over what she meant to show, knowing that if I was looking for a fix I wouldn’t think twice.
“Thank you,” I gushed, keeping my arms low as I scratched at them.
“Yeah, two hours in the alley behind the barber shop.” She shot me a glance. “You know where that is?”
“Yeah, the place with the striped pole?”
“That’s the place. Just don’t go inside. Go to the back.”
I licked my lips, my head in constant motion. “I owe you, really. Anything.”
“I’ll remember that,” she said, going to the door. “Now, get out of here.” I went to the door, keeping my body hunched over and my eyes low. I didn’t want her to remember too many details about me. The door slammed behind me but I didn’t straighten until I was out of sight of her room.
“Well?”
“I’m supposed to meet with her guy in two hours, behind the barber shop,” I told Cord and he surprised me with a brief grin. Funny thing is, Felisha straight up told me the Rebels don’t tolerate drugs. She warned me not to believe everything I see or hear. Said the Rebels catch me with drugs and it’s a one way ticket out of town.” I flashed him a sideways glance. “She seemed legitimately afraid.”
“Creed sent Nina away. Maybe she saw that as the consequence.”
“Wasn’t it?”
Cord deliberated for a second, finally sighing. “It was, is. Johnny would have forced Nina into a position where she would have had to leave if he’d found out. Creed made it easier on Crew by sending her away.”
“Brutal,” I replied, inhaling deeply as other memories rose to the surface. “He really has zero tolerance.”
Cord glanced at me. “He wasn’t always like that.”
I met his gaze for a second, asking quietly, “You either?”
“When I was young and dumb and thought people would change if you just loved them enough,” he replied grimly and I glanced away. “When and where do you want to meet tonight?”
“I can handle it,” I answered, striding slightly ahead. He grabbed my arm, yanking me around. “You really need to stop doing that,” I told him, glancing down at his hand. “One day you’re going to lose a hand.”
“It’ll match the leg,” he replied without an ounce of hesitation. “To make it clear, you’re not meeting this guy alone.” He shook my arm until I looked up. “You understand?”
“He’s expecting a lone female,” I responded, making a face. “And sorry, you’re not that pretty.”
His expression lightened for a second as he said, “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He ducked his head closer to mine. “But you’re still not going alone.”
“I’ve got my trusty crowbar,” I reminded him and he shook his head, glancing off to the side.
“And he might have his trusty nine millimeter. So. You don’t go alone.” He rubbed his tongue against his teeth. “Besides, we need him alive and conscious. Not in the hospital, crying for protection from the big bad Xena.”
I groaned, my teeth snapping together at the stupid nickname. “I can’t believe they came up with that idiotic name.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a compliment,” he informed me, his eyes glinting as I glared at him narrowly.
“The tattoo shop, half an hour before the meet. It’s only a couple of blocks.” I glanced down pointedly at my arm still in his grip and he released me. “If you’re late, I will go without you,” I warned him.
“I won’t be late,” he assured me and I felt his gaze on me until I turned the corner and out of his line of sight.
***
“Tori?” I hesitated at the back door when I heard her call my name, cursing my reluctance to face her. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, Jean, it’s me,” I answered, scrubbing my hands against my legs.
“Come see me.”
“Okay, let me….clean up,” I called back, frowning as I glanced at my hands. The marks I’d made to fool Felisha would also be enough to make Jean question me. I rubbed my fingers over the red spots, exhaling with the realization that there was nothing I could do about i
t.
“There you are,” Jean said with a smile as I came down the hall. “I was waiting for you.”
“This isn’t a good idea,” Jacob muttered and I slowed, seeing the luggage for the first time. “I wish you wouldn’t do this.”
“That’s enough, Jacob Sawyer,” Jean chastised, taking a deep breath and holding her hands out to me. “Come here, Tori.”
“What’s going on?” I counted three suitcases. “Are you going somewhere?”
“The Mayo clinic,” she answered, grasping my hands firmly. “I begin treatment tomorrow.”
“So soon?” I asked, trying and failing to not sound desperate. “I thought we had more time.”
She pressed her lips together and then smiled. “No time like the present, Tori.” She squeezed my fingers gently. “I wanted to make sure and talk to you before I left.”
“You’re coming back,” I couldn’t even begin to hide the fear in my voice and Jean nodded reassuringly.
“I will come back, Tori. I promise.” She tugged on my hands and I nodded, unable to speak. “I need you to do me a favor.” I didn’t miss Jacob’s grimace, and knew he didn’t agree with whatever favor Jean wanted from me. “I’ll be gone a few weeks and I’d like you to stay in the apartment upstairs while I’m gone.” I was already shaking my head in refusal, but Jean kept talking. “Yes, Tori, as a favor to me. I know you’ve refused to stay with me in the past, but I won’t be here and I’d like you to keep an eye on the place.”
“I can do that from the storage room,” I answered, grasping the idea like a lifeline. “I can keep a better eye on the shop from here.”
“See, Jean, it’s perfect. Tori can stay in the storage room,” Jacob interjected and Jean smiled tightly.
“Jacob, why don’t you take my luggage to the car?”
“Jean,” Jacob stopped at her sharp glance.
“It wasn’t a request, Jacob.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, grabbing her bags and going to the door.
Jean turned to me once he’d disappeared, giving me a ‘what can you do’ expression. “I love my grandson, but he’s a stubborn fool.”
Outcast (Southern Rebels MC Book 2) Page 10
