by Brook Wilder
Alisha rolled her eyes. “I will look into the police department over there. I imagine Red has his tentacles throughout that department still, which means you won’t have any police backing if things go south.”
I didn’t know how I felt about that. With a skeleton crew, it didn’t matter how much firepower we had if the cartel bore down on us.
Alisha pushed away from the table, standing. “I’ll go get things started on my end. Stay in touch. I want Red.”
“Will do,” Chains stated as the chief walked out of the room. His gaze swung to me. “Anything you need to say that you didn’t want to in front of the chief?”
I shook my head. “No, that was it.” I didn’t have anything that was fucking amazing, only that I had to wait for Cora to contact me.
Now, though, we were moving the entire fucking club across the border. That was some crazy shit.
“What about this kid?”
I looked at the Bitches’ president. “I don’t know. She says it’s mine, but I don’t remember her.”
“You don’t remember her?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
I gave her a shrug. “I’m not going to lie. I spent a lot of time in beds during that stint.”
“Men,” Widow muttered under her breath. “Can’t keep your cock in your pants for more than ten seconds.”
“If it is my kid,” I continued. “Then I want them both protected if the shit hits the fan.” I didn’t care if Cora was working for the resistance. It would be my job to keep them safe.
“Of course,” Chains stated, all business. “You know we protect our own. You say the word, we will take them in, no questions asked.”
I gave him a nod, pushing out of the chair. “I guess I’m going back then.” After a long shower and replenished supplies, that is. I was looking forward to seeing my apartment, even if it was only for a few hours.
“We will keep you informed of when we move,” Chains said as I started out of the room.
Widow followed me out, stopping me once we had cleared the room. “Do you think it’s yours?” she asked.
“Hell, I don’t know,” I answered, running a hand through my hair. “I haven’t seen it, err, her, yet.”
Widow placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. Suddenly she didn’t look like the badass Bitches’ president but more like a woman who had regret in her eyes. I knew she had gone through some shit over the last few months, losing some of her most valued members while struggling to keep the club afloat, as well as her marriage to Chains. Hell, they both had gone through some shit, but not anything they hadn’t brought on themselves. “If it is, I hope that you will do the right thing. A child is priceless and any time you miss in her life could be detrimental in the future.”
I thought about my own childhood and how more times than not I wished that I wasn’t part of that family, that my father would fucking drop dead so that I didn’t have to be put through the hell he rained down on me.
Though kids had never been part of my idea of a life, I sure as hell wasn’t going to put my daughter through the same shit I had gone through. “Yeah, I know. I will do what’s right, I swear it.”
Widow gave me a small smile, dropping her hand. “Good, glad to hear it. Be safe. Chains needs you.”
***
I left for my apartment and took a long, hot shower, not caring that I used up all the hot water in the process. After weeks of staying in that shithole hotel and living out of a backpack, I was glad to be surrounded by my own things.
After toweling off, I fell into the bed naked, feeling the breeze of the ceiling fan above me across my bare skin. I was used to spending weeks on the road in one form or another and sometimes wondered why I kept the apartment to begin with.
This was that reason. I enjoyed the solitude of my own place, from my big-ass TV in the living room to the fridge full of the craft beer I drank on occasion.
It was mine, all mine.
Pulling the sheet over my body, I punched at my pillow to get it just right, thinking about the plan. The Jesters and the Bitches, whoever was left, would have to be really careful across the border. I could blend in, but a group of us? I still wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. Chains must be desperate to take the cartel down, to show that the Jesters were still the badass club they used to be.
Even if it wasn’t true. There were too many cracks in the façade now, and no amount of new recruits was ever going to bring the club back to the glory days.
The same could be said of the Bitches.
It was sad really. When I had joined the club, they were at the pinnacle of their existence, raking in the money, drugs, and guns left and right. Some would say the moment the Jesters sided with the Bitches was the moment their downfall started, but I wasn’t one of them. The women were just as strong as we were, if not more.
No, the downfall was when the two presidents started hiding things from their own council. Already crippled by the cartel’s many wars, the ranks were not there, and the distrust had spread like a virus, infiltrating those that had trusted them.
That wasn’t something that could be rebuilt so easily, which was why I had enjoyed being away from the clubhouse as much as I had lately. Two Tone, one of the former club members, had fallen prey to the distrust and had spent a hell of a lot of time trying to make it up to Chains, only to bail out altogether in the end when his girl wound up pregnant. Last I heard, he was enjoying the homelife, even going as far as to get a real job.
What would I do if this was my kid? Would I want to continue a relationship with Cora? Was there anything between us that could be a relationship? Hell, I didn’t know. We hadn’t been in each other’s company longer than twenty minutes, but if this was my daughter, I would be spending a lot more time with her.
And Cora wasn’t bad-looking either.
As if on cue, my phone vibrated on the table and I picked it up, noting the text coming from the same number that Cora had texted me from. She wanted to meet, which meant my nap here would be short. There was an address and I fired back a text, telling her to give me twelve hours before I could meet. Getting across the border again might prove to be a bit of a challenge.
She responded with a thumbs-up and I dropped the phone on the table, forcing myself to close my eyes. There was no turning back from this. The Jesters were about to go all-out on the cartel, going after something that would no doubt piss the Mexicans off.
I just had to make sure everyone came out alive when the smoke cleared, including myself, so that I could solve this mystery of if this was my daughter or not.
For if it was, there would have to be some hard decisions made in the future.
One thing was for sure; if I was going back across the border, there was no way in hell I was going to stay at that shitty hotel again.
Chapter 7
Cora
I shouldn’t have told him to meet me here.
In my apartment.
Picking the bra up off the floor, I slung it in the closet, shutting the door firmly behind me. There were a thousand different places I could have had Clayton meet me, so why I had chosen my apartment was beyond me.
Maybe it was because I had started to notice someone following me lately. It started two nights ago, the day after I met with Clayton about the alliance with the resistance. I walked from the bar to the bus stop alone, careful to keep my bag close to my body. It contained the small pistol Siren had loaned to me. While the person was trying to stay in the shadows, I noticed him.
Thank God there were a few other people waiting for the bus and I was able to blend in with the crowd, giving him no way to approach me without others seeing him do so. My entire body was shaking with fear by the time I got on the bus and it drove away, realizing how close I had come to bringing someone to my house, where I would be forced to protect Amelia.
I hadn’t told Emily, of course. She would want me to go to the police, no matter how many times I told her it wouldn’t matter.
No, we were
on our own and I had to be more careful to keep both of them safe.
Which was why I had invited Clayton here. I had information for him from Siren, specific information that he would pass along to whomever he was working for in the club.
I would ask for a favor in turn, one that I was certain he could handle with one hand tied behind his back. For if something happened to me, he would lose his only connection to Siren and Voodoo.
That was the leverage I had, one that I anticipated would serve me well.
A knock sounded on the door and I hurried into the living room, not bothering to check my reflection as I passed the hallway mirror. I wasn’t in the business of impressing him. My T-shirt and sweatpants made that clear and obvious.
I wanted him to see that I was just a normal person trying to keep her family safe. Deep down, I was much more than that, and I knew I had shown him glimpses when I had punched him the other day. Did I feel sorry about it? No, it had felt damn good to do so.
After all, he had tried to ruin my good character.
Flipping the locks, I opened the door, my heart thudding in my chest as I took his appearance in. He was dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, his aviator glasses hanging from the collar. His hair was slicked back, curling around his ears, and he wore a neutral expression on his handsome face.
But it was his eyes that gave me pause. They were seeking something out, something that I wasn’t so sure I could identify. “Hey,” I finally said, tucking my own hair behind my ears. “Thanks for coming.”
He didn’t move forward. “Is this your apartment?”
I nodded. “Come in.”
He made a sound but crossed the threshold anyway and I closed the door behind him, flipping the locks. I had a bad habit of doing so, feeling safe knowing that someone would have to break down the door to get inside the apartment.
Clayton walked into the living room and I motioned to the couch. “Would you like to sit?”
“No,” he said abruptly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why the hell would you bring me here? What if I was lying to you about what I was after?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” I answered darkly, his tone causing me to bristle somewhat. “Someone is tailing me.”
Some of the anger dissipated from his glare. “What? Who?”
“If I knew, then it wouldn’t be a problem,” I said angrily. “I didn’t want him to see me meeting you and he doesn’t know where I live.” Or at least I didn’t think he did. It seemed he only knew I worked at the bar right now and that was how I was going to attempt to keep it.
“You’re right,” he said after a moment. “Good thinking.”
“Siren says that she will meet you,” I continued, not caring what he thought about my plan. “Tomorrow. At the food market. She says if you bring anyone else, it will be the last time you see her.”
“Got it,” he answered. “I’m not planning on setting her up.”
I was hoping not. Siren had been very clear that if he did, she would shoot him on the spot and not bother to ask any questions.
“I’ll take care of your other problem too,” he continued, surprising me. “When does he follow you?”
“When I leave the bar,” I answered, a shiver threading through my body at that thought. “I always lose him at the bus stop.”
Clayton’s eyes darkened, reminding me of the same eyes I stared into whenever Amelia was really pissed off about not being fed in a timely manner. Once he saw those eyes, he would know that was his daughter. Anybody would make that assumption. “I’ll handle it.”
I cleared my throat. “Thanks.”
He looked around the living room, his eyes lingering on the baby swing that was in the corner. “Where is she? Is she here?”
“No,” I forced out. “She’s not. My sister has her.” I had let Emily take her out with her while she shopped, not wanting to have her here in case something happened.
Clayton’s gaze swung back to me and my stomach lurched into my chest, his intense gaze nearly bowling me over. “Is she even real?”
What? Surely he didn’t think I was making all of this up. That would be ridiculous. “Are you serious?”
“I mean, women have done it,” he said slowly, his gaze traveling over my body. “And you don’t look like a woman who has given birth recently.
“That’s because I haven’t, dumbass,” I said tightly. “She’s three months old.” I wasn’t breastfeeding anymore but had tried to watch what I was eating so I could get the weight off.
Not that I had gained a whole lot with her to begin with. Between working at the bar, being on my feet constantly, and my meager budget at the time, there hadn’t been a lot of food to go around anyway.
How dare he? He wasn’t there when my feet were so swollen, I couldn’t get my shoes on, or when I puked up everything I ate because my stomach wouldn’t take it.
He wasn’t there when Amelia had kept me and Emily both up all night with colic, forcing us to take turns so that the other could get a little sleep and not feel like shit in the morning.
He wasn’t there when Amelia had an allergic reaction to the formula we had been feeding her for her stomach issues and we rushed her to the hospital, afraid that her rash was something far more serious than it turned out to be.
That night, I chose to forget. I had never been so scared in all my life.
Clayton held up his hands. “I’m just making an observation.”
“No, you are being an asshole,” I forced out, wanting to hit him again. “I didn’t plan for this pregnancy to happen, you know, but I dealt with it. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even be in the position you are in with Siren. Don’t forget I can smash that at any moment like the little bug you are being. Then where would you be, Clayton? Oh yeah, wandering the streets, looking for your next lead.”
He arched a brow. “Are you threatening me?”
I lifted my chin. “Take it how you want to.” I was tired of being the one that was dumped on, the one who was thought the worst of. Hadn’t he called me a whore in so many words a few days ago, and now he was asking if I was lying about my child?
Men.
He blew out a breath. “You’re right,” he finally said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of such a thing. It was wrong of me to do so.”
I bit my lower lip as I took in his apology. I really shouldn’t forgive him, but this wasn’t going to be the only time we worked together, and I needed to know I could trust him. “Fine. It’s fine.”
Clayton took a step toward me. “No, it’s not. I’ve said things that are wrong. Please forgive me, Cora.”
He sounded so earnest that I nearly gave in. More than that, I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and just have him hold me for a few moments. When was the last time someone had held me that wasn’t my sister? I craved human contact, especially now. “Fine, I forgive you, but any more accusations and I will seriously bolt. I don’t have to do this, you know.”
He nodded. “I know. Thank you for what you are doing.”
He was being very solicitous today. It was messing with my head. I walked to the door, knowing that my sister would be back at any minute. “I will be in touch.”
Clayton took the cue and walked to the door, his cologne assaulting my senses as he came to stand before me. “Do you have something to defend yourself with, Cora?”
I found myself staring into those eyes again, noting how long his lashes were. Oh, I hoped Amelia had his lashes as well. A woman would kill for those lashes.
There were other features about him that I hadn’t noticed until he was this close, like the small wrinkles around his eyes, the faint line of his sunglasses, and the slightly crooked nose that somehow didn’t take away from the handsomeness of his face.
Had I really slept with this man? I knew I had. I vaguely remembered that night, but more importantly, I remembered the tattoo he had on his back, the one that licked up the side of his neck.
Unfortuna
tely, I couldn’t remember how his body looked, which was a bummer.
“What?”
Realizing I was staring, I fumbled with the locks, pulling open the door. “Goodbye, Clayton.”
“What bar do you work at?”
“Why?”
“So I can follow you.”
Oh yeah. He was going to take care of my shadow. “The Drunken Worm.”
He chuckled. “You’re fucking serious.”
“As a heart attack,” I said, wanting him out of my personal space. He was far too close to me.
“See you real soon, Cora,” he answered, walking out of the door. I shut it immediately behind him, leaning against it as I attempted to calm my furiously beating heart.
