Lake: A Steel Paragons MC Novel (The Coast: Book 5)

by Eve R. Hart

  I knew something like this was coming. Not that I was dreading it. I was truly honored when they invited me to the table, but that said, I knew it wouldn’t come without some kind of contribution.

  “Got it,” I said with a prideful smile.

  This club had become my life over the last few years. It had become my sanity and my strength. My acceptance and my family. So anything he asked of me, I’d never hesitated to give it everything I had.

  “Great,” he said then took a gulp of his still steaming, black coffee. “Now get some damn sleep. You look like shit.”

  I laughed.

  “Yeah. Probably a good idea. Come get me if you need me.”

  He gave me a chin jerk as I got to my feet.

  I didn’t want to admit it, but the last few days I hadn’t gotten much sleep. Every time I tried to close my eyes, someone needed something. I got that it was hard especially when I tended to attempt to get some shut-eye when most people were awake.

  “Hey, Lake,” Mouse said as I passed him on the way to my room.

  “Hey,” I replied back.

  “I’m heading up to the garage to sort through yesterday’s paperwork,” he said and I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten about the mess I’d left.

  Honestly, I’d gotten a little behind on the paperwork thing. I had meant to head up there and do it myself but I was too tired right now.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said reading the expression on my face.

  “I’m sorry.” I tried to hold back a yawn but it managed to pry its way out of my mouth. “Just leave it, I’ll get it in a couple of hours.”

  “It’s alright. I don’t have anything to do today other than to run to the bank for the bar. And I figured I’d take the garage deposit too. Get some rest, man. I don’t think there’s too much going on up there.”

  “Thanks, brother,” I said and shuffled on to my room.

  Though this place was different from Moon Hill, it was somewhere I’d started to come to think of as home. These guys were my brothers just as much as the ones back there.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Bridget

  I looked at the clock for the millionth time this morning. I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep but I wasn’t ready to get out of bed. It wasn’t like it mattered because no matter what time I finally rolled my tired ass out of bed, I’d never beat Art to the office. I had no clue what time that man got up, but he was always there by the time I stepped foot over the threshold. Sometimes he looked like he’d never even left the place.

  With a low, drawn-out groan, I whipped the covers off of my nearly naked body. I felt the cool air slithered over my skin, instantly causing the goosebumps to awaken all over.

  “No,” I groaned as I forced myself to release the sheets before I yanked them back to cover me.

  In case you were wondering, I was alone. Always alone. Like sadly so.

  But that never stopped me from talking out loud like there might actually be someone floating around that would give a fuck.

  Sometimes I imagined the perfect boyfriend.

  Right now he’d be in the bathroom surrounded by steam and still wet from his shower. There would be a swipe across the mirror from his hand and he would be lifting his chin to the sky while he shaved the stubble from his neck. And the moment my feet hit the cool, hardwood floor, the sound of the coffee maker would fill the apartment causing me to smile because he was thoughtful enough to make it before he hopped into the shower.

  I let out a sigh, thinking how this perfect boyfriend would already have my favorite coffee mug sitting right there on the counter next to the brewing pot and there would already be a half of an inch of creamer resting in the bottom of the mug so that all I had to do was pour and drink.

  Oh, how wonderfully amazing my imaginary boyfriend was. I loved him. Every little thing about him.

  Sadly, I knew real-life boyfriend would never measure up.

  It wasn’t that I had high expectations. I mean, I was smart enough to know that no one, and I mean no one, would ever be as perfect as the man my mind came up with. But so far, I hadn’t even found a guy that would remember my phone number let alone how much creamer I put in my coffee.

  That was okay though because I wasn’t the type of woman who shied away from her sexuality and I wasn’t afraid to take matters into my own hands. Which I did, quite often.

  “Alright, here we go,” I said in a way to pump myself up enough to hop into the shower.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was putting my wet hair up in a bun on top of my head, grabbing my coat while stuffing my feet into some sensible shoes, and flying out the door.

  I decided to skip trying to mess with my car. She was a fickle old gal and if she didn’t want to go anywhere then I wouldn’t be either. Most mornings I just let her be lazy, opting to take the bus instead.

  I made it to the bus stop just in time to catch the driver’s eyes in the side view mirror and beg him not to close the doors on me.

  A short trip later I was telling that grumpy bus driver to have a wonderful day as I made my exit.

  One block away from the shelter of the office, the sky decided to open up and rain its cold spit upon me.

  Ugh, most days were just like this. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I stepped in a pile of dog shit as I ran for the door with the peeling gold and green letters just up ahead. I powered through it, running like the devil was chasing me as I held my arm in front of my face to shield my eyes from the stinging drops.

  “Made it,” I whispered as I pushed open the door to the office, my fingers brushing over the decal of the old school magnifying glass as I slipped into the semi-warm space.

  “Hey, Bridget,” Art said not even looking up from the papers scattered on the desk in front of him. “It’s raining out.”

  I rolled my eyes at him.

  Like I didn’t know that.

  I shook my arms out and was thankful that I’d put my hair up in a bun.

  “Yep,” I said shaking my head as I hung my jacket on the rickety coat rack behind the door. “Coffee?”

  I headed over to the coffee maker already aware of what his answer would be. I wasn’t surprised to find the thing off and empty though he’d probably been here for hours.

  “Yeah,” he grunted.

  No, he wasn’t an asshole, he was just really focused. Which was good, because if he was focused then that meant there was a case.

  I decided to wait to ask about it until I had his coffee ready for him.

  “Got something?” I asked as I set the steaming mug down on the desk in front of him.

  “Yeah, got a call last night. Just trying to put some pieces together before I form a plan.”

  I made my own cup and took a seat at my desk which was smaller and significantly less cluttered than his.

  “What is it? Cheating spouse?”

  So, yeah, private investigator work was not as glorious as some might think. Ninety percent of the cases were trailing and staking out cheating spouses and getting pictures of them in the act. It was just how the job went. And since my dad had been a PI and his dad before him, I didn’t hold the high hopes for excitement in the job like the newbies did.

  That didn’t mean that I wasn’t waiting around for those rare cases that took real elbow grease and digging.

  Truth was, I just wanted to make my dad proud.

  “This one could help us keep the doors open for another six months,” he said finally looking up at me and pinning me with his old, tired, brown eyes.

  So things weren’t going so good. I knew it. Art knew it. My dad knew it before he left this green earth almost a year ago.

  I sighed and fell back into my chair.

  When my granddad started this business, he had no trouble getting in clients and keeping the doors open, or so I’d been told. He was the kind of man that you took one look at and knew he’d get shit done. He was also a wise businessman. However, all that time working didn’t leave much time to be at home
with his family. I didn’t blame him, and I was pretty sure my father didn’t either. It was different times back then and all. But when my dad had me, he decided that wasn’t the way he wanted me to grow up. I always came first and the work second.

  However, that didn’t always make my mom happy.

  She wanted someone to provide more than my dad was able to. It wasn’t enough for her to have money to pay the bills, keep the refrigerator stocked, and eat out once a week.

  So when I was five, she found someone else that would give her not only the things she needed, but all the shit she wanted as well. And so she left to start her new family.

  One that I wasn’t a part of.

  But that was okay because I had my dad. He was better than any dad in the whole world. Even when I knew he was hurting, he never let me think it was my fault that she left or made me feel like he resented me for it.

  But the business suffered because he had been there for me at every turn. When I graduated, he jumped back into the job but it was too late at that point. The past five years we’d spent trying to build the place back up but it always felt like we were just barely keeping our heads above water. And ever since he passed away, I felt like things just kept going down the hole.

  I looked over at Art, his head back on the papers in front of him.

  My eyes traveled to the sturdy oak desk and the intricate details of a past era. Memories of playing on the floor when my granddad sat at that desk. My fingers would always run over the dips and grooves and I loved the way the wood felt cool and slick against my fingertips. Then later, pulling up a chair late at night and eating Chinese takeout from the place down the street while Dad and I worked on a case together.

  I hadn’t even protested when Art took my dad’s desk after he passed away. I understood that people grieved in different ways and I figured that he needed to feel closer to my dad by sitting there. I almost preferred my cheaper, smaller desk because I could at least look over and see all the details around the edges.

  Art had worked with my dad for over twenty years. He was like part of the family and so I knew he was hurting as much as I was even if he never said so.

  Figuring that Art wasn’t going to say anything more on the new case, I turned on my computer and got to work checking emails and going over expense reports.

  Yeah, the fun stuff.

  My days might not have been exciting but they were mine. This was what I was meant to do. Just like my dad and granddad. It was in my blood. It was, for lack of a better term, my legacy.

  I hadn’t thought of it beyond me. I had no clue if I’d one day have kids of my own to carry it on. To pass the torch to. To teach the ins and outs to, like my dad had to me.

  But before I even started to think about those things, I needed a steady man in my life. There was no way in hell I was going to go at it alone because I’d seen the struggle that my dad had. And while I thought he did an amazing job at raising me and being there for me, I also saw the toll it took on him when he didn’t think I was looking. Nights when he’d have to push through, working on a case all night after I was tucked in bed. The dark circles that would seem permanent for weeks at a time. The stress lines etched deep into his forehead. The lonely sighs he would let slip when he thought he was alone.

  Yeah, I saw it all. And I felt helpless even as a kid though I knew he’d never expect me to try to fix things. I was his life, his world, but he always made me feel like he loved it that way.

  So yeah, I didn’t want that for my life. I wanted someone to lean on. Someone to take the burdens when they became too much. Someone that would shower his family with love.

  Since I had no prospects at the moment, I figured that was a pretty high goal. So most days I chose not to even think about it. I was still young, I had time if that was what I truly wanted.

  Right now, my focus and time and energy went to keeping this place going. For my dad. For Art. For myself. Yeah, maybe I already had a lot on my plate and I didn’t see that lightening anytime soon.

  “There’s nothing going on today,” Art said just as the clock hit five. “Just go on home.”

  It was almost like I hadn’t already been there all day. It didn’t matter that I tried hard to find things to do. Like scrub down the bathroom, or clean out the coffee maker, or check all of our files and make sure everything was where it should be— and it was, in case you were wondering. For the most part, I stayed on top of that shit, even if Art sometimes tended to forget about paperwork. And by forget, I mean he hated to do it, so he would leave it until it piled up to the point that I would get frustrated and take matters into my own hands.

  I liked things organized. I wasn’t a neat freak but I believed that chaos did not belong in the office. Cluttered desks, takeout containers sitting out, a million dirty coffee mugs, those were all things a client could walk in and see. And since we were pretty much dying for business, I didn’t need anyone running from here with their head shaking in disappointment or disgust. Plus, if I needed to go back to a case for some reason, I wanted to know that I could find it in a blink. It was more professional not to have to stumble around or leave a client on hold for a million years until I got it together.

  I took this shit seriously, even if life was making it pointless for me to right now.

  I had faith that things would turn around. Just had to keep chipping away and turning out satisfied customers. Word of mouth was the best kind of advertisement. Okay, that was usually true but sometimes you didn’t always want people to know that you hired a PI because then you would have to talk about why you did so.

  “Yeah, okay,” I finally said with a sigh and looked around to make sure everything was in its place before I scooped up my bag.

  Luckily, my jacket was dry by now, only as I looked out at the darkening street beyond the door, I knew it wouldn’t matter because the rain had decided to come back. Figured. It was just my kind of luck.

  I should have taken the bus but by the time I waited for it at the stop, I would have been just as wet as if I had jogged my ass all the way back to my apartment.

  As soon as I walked into my place, I stripped right there behind the door. I was shivering to the point that my teeth were chattering so hard I was worried they were going to crack. My hands had gone numb and I was pretty sure that if I looked in the mirror, my lips would be blue.

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad because it wasn’t even cold here. It never got cold here. But when you lived in Florida and the temperature dropped below seventy-five degrees, it was fucking cold. We weren’t used to it. I feared the day that I would have to deal with snow. Just the thought made me grimace. I didn’t like to be wet or cold, and that was what fucking snow was. Wet and damn cold. No thank you.

  I didn’t think as I rushed to the bathroom and hopped into the shower, thankful that the water warmed up quickly.

  I dressed in sweats and a long sleeved shirt because it was cheaper than turning on the heat. As I slipped under my comforter, I reached for the unsalted topped saltines I kept beside my bed. This was my dinner and I was too exhausted from freezing my ass off to even go into the kitchen to get a can of tuna to spread on it. Yep, I didn’t make bank but I made due. I learned a long time ago how to eat on a dime. A can of tuna and a half a sleeve of crackers would fill my belly.

  The next day, I walked into the office to find an antsy Art. It seemed that he’d finished his research and was ready to get moving. I’d been around him long enough that I could read him like a book.

  “You all set?” I asked, moving to my desk to set down my bag before going to the coffee pot and getting two cups ready without even asking.

  “Yeah. This one is a traveler.”

  Not the client. The job.

  Yeah, I got what he was saying.

  It meant not in this city.

  Which made me cringe because that meant travel expenses. Food on the road. Hotel room. Extra gas. And so fucking on.

  I turned on my heel, looking at hi
m with sharp eyes. No, we could not afford for him to take the trip. While he knew how to do things on the cheaper scale, I knew how to do it better. Plus, that little part of my heart kicked in. Art was old and well, wasn’t in the best of health. I didn’t want him going anywhere, especially if it was a long distance and carried him into cooler temperatures.

  I really needed to change the payment policy. We really needed to start taking in half as a down payment but it was easier to get cases when they could pay after you had something to show them.

  “Do you think it’s a good time for you to take off?” I asked making it seem like the office needed him.

  Okay, it may have looked like he ran things around here and being older, I knew people assumed it was his business. I tried hard not to get aggravated at it. But it worked well for me in moments like this. I just had to play it right.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll call her back and tell her we aren’t able to help them out at this time.”

  “No,” I rushed to say and then tried to pull back and seem causal. “I can do it.”

  He nodded his head and I could have sworn that there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

  Was he playing me while I was trying to play him?

  Hmmm.

  I shook my head because I didn’t want to believe that. It didn’t matter which one of us took the case. I couldn’t imagine that it was that bad. But it was clear that he didn’t really want to go and I wouldn’t mind getting away for a bit.

  “You want this one?” he asked holding the file out.

  “Yep,” I said jumping across the space and snatching it out of his hand with a wide smile.

  “Sure your car is going to make it there? It’s a ten-hour drive?”

  “I’ll get there. Have no doubt in her and she won’t let me down.” I had to believe that.

  “Alright, but leave this afternoon and stop halfway. Don’t want you driving into the night.”

  “Will do, Art,” I said as I sucked down my coffee and set the file on the side of my desk.