Reaper's Stand
Page 30
Silence, and then when I’d almost started to wonder if he’d hung up on me, he spoke again.
“What is it?”
“I need to talk to you in person. It’s … complicated.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m just coming up on Hayden,” I told him.
“I’m not too far away. Meet me at the cafe across from the flooring place, down on Government Way.”
“Thank you, Nate.”
“Don’t thank me yet. God knows if I’ll help you. Right now I’m tempted to tell you to fuck off.”
I swallowed my pride.
“Thanks for hearing me out. You’re the only person I know who has the power to change the situation I’m in.”
God, I hated sucking up.
“I’ll listen,” he said after a pause. “No promises.”
“Just having you hear me out means the world to me.”
I ended the call, leaned out my window, and threw up. Remember, you need him, my brain reminded me. Play nice.
The restaurant wasn’t too busy, thank God. Nate was already waiting for me, sitting in a booth in the back corner. I smiled at him weakly as I walked over. My purse felt too heavy, the strange, hateful weight of the gun throwing my whole world off balance.
So wrong.
“You look like shit,” he said as I slid into the seat. “Your eyes are all red and puffy, like you’ve been crying. Lover boy not as wonderful as you thought?”
I shook my head—now wasn’t the time to fight or defend myself. If Nate found a way to help me, he could say whatever the hell he wanted.
“I have a big problem,” I replied slowly, wondering just how exactly I was supposed to explain all this to him.
“Coffee?” a waitress asked, smiling down at Nate. He flashed her a flirty grin, reminding me so much of the night I’d met him that it might’ve hurt, if I still had the capacity to experience more pain. Lucky me—I’d already topped up on suffering for the day.
“Decaf,” he said. “London?”
“Just water, please.”
She nodded, although I could see a look in her eyes that said she didn’t appreciate me taking up table space if I wasn’t going to order anything.
Shitty to be her.
“I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to spit it out,” I told him. “There are some bad guys down in California who have Jessica, and they’re going to kill her unless I commit a murder for them.”
I expected to startle him, maybe have him question whether I’d lost my mind. Instead he just smiled.
“Yeah, I know.”
It felt like someone had hit me in the stomach with a baseball bat. Guess I could still feel more pain after all.
“What?” I whispered.
“I know all about it,” he said casually. The waitress came back and handed him his coffee.
“You want anything with that?” she asked.
“Slice of pecan pie would be great,” he said, winking at her. “With a scoop of ice cream?”
“You got it,” she said, glancing over at me again. “Hey, are you sick? You don’t look so good.”
I managed to shake my head.
“No,” I said, my voice hoarse and weak. “I’m fine. I just … need to talk with the deputy, okay? Can you leave us?”
She sniffed, then strutted off, smacking her little order pad down on the counter as she passed into the back.
“Now you pissed her off,” Nate said casually. “If she spits in my pie, I’m making you pay for it. In fact, I think I’ll let you pay for everything anyway. So was that all?”
“Was what all?”
“Was that all you wanted to talk about? If that’s it, you should probably get going. Sounds like you got your work cut out for you. Good luck with that.”
“You’re a police officer,” I said, still stunned. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” he replied, taking another sip of his coffee. “Well, I guess I’m a little bored right now, but I love pie. I should eat up, sounds like it’ll be a long night. Crime scene to process and all that.”
“I can’t believe you—what’s wrong here? Is this some kind of joke to you?”
Nate smiled, so much hatred in his eyes that it scared me. Had I ever known him at all?
“No, Loni, this isn’t a joke. You’ve got a job to do, and if you want that little cunt Jessica to survive, sounds like you better stop dickin’ around and get it done. Oh, now don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I want her dead—kid’s fuckin’ great in the sack. Wouldn’t mind another run at her.”
I reeled. My brain seemed to shut down, incapable of accepting any new data.
“You were sleeping with Jessica?”
He rolled his eyes.
“God, you’re stupid,” he muttered. “Someone had to give her enough money to get down to Cali when you had your little fight. This whole thing was a lot of work to set up, but I have to admit that screwing her tight little ass was the fun part. Christ, you didn’t actually think I was into you, did you? You’re too old, used up … And now it’s time for you to go and take care of your business. Don’t bother trying to call the cops before it’s done, either. Nobody’s going to help you.”
Somewhere in the middle of his little speech, I shut down. I could still see everything, hear everything … but it all felt distant and unreal.
“You’re an evil person,” I whispered.
“I’m a man with a goal,” Nate replied, his voice serious and his eyes hard—nothing like the person I thought I’d known. He leaned forward, his words precise and clipped. “I know what I want, and I’m willing to do anything to get it. I fucked your girl and convinced her to go to San Diego, Loni. I rigged your house to blow so Hayes would take you in. Now you’re right where I want you, and you’ll fucking dance because I told you to. No more questions.”
“Here’s that pie,” the waitress said, walking toward us.
“Thanks, hon,” Nate replied with a smile. She leaned in to him just a little, her body language making it clear she had more than pie to offer.
They ignored me when I pushed up and out of my seat, trying not to stumble as I walked out of the restaurant and back to my van. I sat in the driver’s seat for several minutes, trying to process what the hell had just happened. But some things don’t make sense no matter how you look at them, so I turned my key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, because I still needed to hit the grocery store. I had a list of things to buy and I was running out of time to get dinner on the table.
Why was I fixing dinner? I don’t know.
What I do know is that by the time I paid for the food, my side hurt where my purse kept thwacking me as I walked—the gun threw it off balance, I guess. I ignored the small pain as I drove home to cook dinner for Reese. Not like killing a man is less awful if you’ve fed him first, but what else was I supposed to do for the rest of the afternoon?
God damn Nate Evans to hell, and God damn me for falling for his shit. God damn the men holding Jessica, too. If there was any justice in the universe, Amber was burning in a fiery pit surrounded by demons right at this minute. I hated all of them.
Mostly, though, I hated me.
REESE
“Why bother playing it through? She’s got a gun in there and she’s gonna shoot you with it. Not many ways to spin that and get a happy ending,” Puck said, holding my gaze steadily. “I spent almost two hours gettin’ harassed on the side of the fucking road while she plotted your death. How much more proof do you need?”
The kid had balls, talking to me like that. Still, he’d been thrown into deep shit, headfirst, and he’d rolled with it and done his job. Nobody wants to be the one telling an MC president that his woman’s fixin’ to kill him. The Silver Bastards prospect had showed me respect without fucking around.
I still hated him for what he’d discovered.
“Hate to say it ’cause I like London, but I’m with Puck on this one,” Gage said. He sat back in an old office chair I’d hauled down to my shop a few years ago. Right now it was positioned in front of a long, low table with two monitors set on top of it. They each split into four screens, playing a live feed of different rooms in my house. Ruger had a gift for electronics, no question.
I’d have to make sure he didn’t forget to take any of those little fuckers out after this was all over, too. Last I needed were eyes on what went on in there on a regular basis. Been damned fuckin’ hard to act normal this week, knowing the brothers were watching everything I did.
Make that almost everything. I didn’t let them put anything in the bedroom, because fuck that shit.
We’d spent a good part of the afternoon down here—Gage, me, Ruger, Horse, Painter, Bam Bam, and Duck. Bolt was off at Maggs’s place. Not sure what drama was goin’ down with those two. Hopefully I’d never find out. Couldn’t even manage my own woman, didn’t need to worry about his.
“Christ,” I said, watching London bustling around the kitchen on the monitor and sighing. I’d fallen for her, I realized. Not just fucking her, but her. Comin’ home to her felt good, and havin’ her with me at the party? Hadn’t felt like that since Heather was alive.
I’d never hated the cartel more than I did in that instant.
We might not have the full story here, but didn’t take a genius to see they were using Jessica to manipulate her. Was that an excuse? No. London should’ve come to me, let the club handle things.
“She’s got no fuckin’ clue what she got herself into here,” I muttered. Bam grunted.
“That’s how they work. Nobody sets out to get controlled and used by a fuckin’ cartel. They’re like parasites, workin’ their way in and then taking over until you can’t pull them out without killing the host. Lost cause at this point, Pic. She’s made her choice and it wasn’t you. Those weren’t blanks I pulled out of her purse—so far as she knows, that gun is still loaded and she’s obviously plannin’ to use it.”
I sighed, torn between wishing he wasn’t so damn blunt and thankful my brothers weren’t afraid to give it to me straight.
“So why are we still waiting?” Gage asked. “We go in and find out what’s going on—she won’t be able to hold out on us long. We can make a decision about what to do with her after that.”
“Because he’s hoping she’ll change her mind,” Duck muttered. He sat on a shop stool, eyeing all of us cynically. “Fuckin’ pussy thinks that maybe true love will conquer all, and then she’ll climb onto his bike and they’ll ride away into the sky on a rainbow while we all throw rose petals at them.”
Puck snorted, quickly turning it into a cough.
“Just ’cause you’re old doesn’t mean you can talk to me like that,” I told Duck, my voice like ice. He shrugged.
“Call it like I see it,” he said. “Whatever you do, let’s do it soon. If you want it to go all the way to the end, that’s fine with me. Just get moving because I’m hungry. Whether she tries to shoot you or not, that food she’s cookin’ will still taste good.”
“Jesus, Duck,” Painter muttered. Then he caught my eye. “If this is really goin’ down, I should grab Melanie. She’s upstairs, and I don’t know what London’s planning to do about her witnessing things. We don’t need her seein’ this shit. No more collateral damage than necessary, right boss?”
“Go get her,” I said. “Take her to dinner and a movie, or some such. Make it a date. That’ll be a good alibi for both of you if anything happens. I’ll keep you posted and if things go to hell you can dump her with one of the girls, sound good?”
“Yeah,” Painter said. “I’ll take her out and then tuck her in safe once you give the all clear. Good luck, Pic. Hope it works out okay.”
He leaned over and gave me a rough hug. I slapped his back, and the rest of us settled in to watch as he drove his bike around the back side of the hill, pulling into the driveway like he’d come directly from town.
“So, you find anything interesting in her purse besides that gun?” I asked Bam.
“Well, there’s the phone they’ve been usin’ to talk to her, but that’s nothing new.”
“Still fuckin’ pissed about that,” Ruger muttered. “Shouldn’t be so hard to crack the bastard, but still haven’t been able to tap it. Ninjas or something.”
Despite everything, I had to smile. Ruger wasn’t used to being beaten by technology.
“Finally met your match,” Duck grunted, his voice satisfied. “I keep tellin’ you, we can’t just count on electronic shit to cover us. Nothing like human intel combined with real firepower. Beats one of your little bugs any time.”
“Without my bugs, we’d have no idea what we’re walking into,” Ruger said. Duck rolled his eyes.
“You still got no idea,” he muttered. “We know she’s got a gun somewhere and we’re pretty sure she’s planning to shoot Pic. Has somethin’ to do with that kid of hers. Hard to know more without hearin’ both sides of the conversation, but it doesn’t really matter. We haven’t learned one damn thing about the cartel that’s new or useful in all of this, and I’ll bet she can’t tell us shit, either. This is the sideshow—the main event’s gonna be in Cali, not here.”
“What is it?”
“I need to talk to you in person. It’s … complicated.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m just coming up on Hayden,” I told him.
“I’m not too far away. Meet me at the cafe across from the flooring place, down on Government Way.”
“Thank you, Nate.”
“Don’t thank me yet. God knows if I’ll help you. Right now I’m tempted to tell you to fuck off.”
I swallowed my pride.
“Thanks for hearing me out. You’re the only person I know who has the power to change the situation I’m in.”
God, I hated sucking up.
“I’ll listen,” he said after a pause. “No promises.”
“Just having you hear me out means the world to me.”
I ended the call, leaned out my window, and threw up. Remember, you need him, my brain reminded me. Play nice.
The restaurant wasn’t too busy, thank God. Nate was already waiting for me, sitting in a booth in the back corner. I smiled at him weakly as I walked over. My purse felt too heavy, the strange, hateful weight of the gun throwing my whole world off balance.
So wrong.
“You look like shit,” he said as I slid into the seat. “Your eyes are all red and puffy, like you’ve been crying. Lover boy not as wonderful as you thought?”
I shook my head—now wasn’t the time to fight or defend myself. If Nate found a way to help me, he could say whatever the hell he wanted.
“I have a big problem,” I replied slowly, wondering just how exactly I was supposed to explain all this to him.
“Coffee?” a waitress asked, smiling down at Nate. He flashed her a flirty grin, reminding me so much of the night I’d met him that it might’ve hurt, if I still had the capacity to experience more pain. Lucky me—I’d already topped up on suffering for the day.
“Decaf,” he said. “London?”
“Just water, please.”
She nodded, although I could see a look in her eyes that said she didn’t appreciate me taking up table space if I wasn’t going to order anything.
Shitty to be her.
“I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to spit it out,” I told him. “There are some bad guys down in California who have Jessica, and they’re going to kill her unless I commit a murder for them.”
I expected to startle him, maybe have him question whether I’d lost my mind. Instead he just smiled.
“Yeah, I know.”
It felt like someone had hit me in the stomach with a baseball bat. Guess I could still feel more pain after all.
“What?” I whispered.
“I know all about it,” he said casually. The waitress came back and handed him his coffee.
“You want anything with that?” she asked.
“Slice of pecan pie would be great,” he said, winking at her. “With a scoop of ice cream?”
“You got it,” she said, glancing over at me again. “Hey, are you sick? You don’t look so good.”
I managed to shake my head.
“No,” I said, my voice hoarse and weak. “I’m fine. I just … need to talk with the deputy, okay? Can you leave us?”
She sniffed, then strutted off, smacking her little order pad down on the counter as she passed into the back.
“Now you pissed her off,” Nate said casually. “If she spits in my pie, I’m making you pay for it. In fact, I think I’ll let you pay for everything anyway. So was that all?”
“Was what all?”
“Was that all you wanted to talk about? If that’s it, you should probably get going. Sounds like you got your work cut out for you. Good luck with that.”
“You’re a police officer,” I said, still stunned. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” he replied, taking another sip of his coffee. “Well, I guess I’m a little bored right now, but I love pie. I should eat up, sounds like it’ll be a long night. Crime scene to process and all that.”
“I can’t believe you—what’s wrong here? Is this some kind of joke to you?”
Nate smiled, so much hatred in his eyes that it scared me. Had I ever known him at all?
“No, Loni, this isn’t a joke. You’ve got a job to do, and if you want that little cunt Jessica to survive, sounds like you better stop dickin’ around and get it done. Oh, now don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I want her dead—kid’s fuckin’ great in the sack. Wouldn’t mind another run at her.”
I reeled. My brain seemed to shut down, incapable of accepting any new data.
“You were sleeping with Jessica?”
He rolled his eyes.
“God, you’re stupid,” he muttered. “Someone had to give her enough money to get down to Cali when you had your little fight. This whole thing was a lot of work to set up, but I have to admit that screwing her tight little ass was the fun part. Christ, you didn’t actually think I was into you, did you? You’re too old, used up … And now it’s time for you to go and take care of your business. Don’t bother trying to call the cops before it’s done, either. Nobody’s going to help you.”
Somewhere in the middle of his little speech, I shut down. I could still see everything, hear everything … but it all felt distant and unreal.
“You’re an evil person,” I whispered.
“I’m a man with a goal,” Nate replied, his voice serious and his eyes hard—nothing like the person I thought I’d known. He leaned forward, his words precise and clipped. “I know what I want, and I’m willing to do anything to get it. I fucked your girl and convinced her to go to San Diego, Loni. I rigged your house to blow so Hayes would take you in. Now you’re right where I want you, and you’ll fucking dance because I told you to. No more questions.”
“Here’s that pie,” the waitress said, walking toward us.
“Thanks, hon,” Nate replied with a smile. She leaned in to him just a little, her body language making it clear she had more than pie to offer.
They ignored me when I pushed up and out of my seat, trying not to stumble as I walked out of the restaurant and back to my van. I sat in the driver’s seat for several minutes, trying to process what the hell had just happened. But some things don’t make sense no matter how you look at them, so I turned my key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, because I still needed to hit the grocery store. I had a list of things to buy and I was running out of time to get dinner on the table.
Why was I fixing dinner? I don’t know.
What I do know is that by the time I paid for the food, my side hurt where my purse kept thwacking me as I walked—the gun threw it off balance, I guess. I ignored the small pain as I drove home to cook dinner for Reese. Not like killing a man is less awful if you’ve fed him first, but what else was I supposed to do for the rest of the afternoon?
God damn Nate Evans to hell, and God damn me for falling for his shit. God damn the men holding Jessica, too. If there was any justice in the universe, Amber was burning in a fiery pit surrounded by demons right at this minute. I hated all of them.
Mostly, though, I hated me.
REESE
“Why bother playing it through? She’s got a gun in there and she’s gonna shoot you with it. Not many ways to spin that and get a happy ending,” Puck said, holding my gaze steadily. “I spent almost two hours gettin’ harassed on the side of the fucking road while she plotted your death. How much more proof do you need?”
The kid had balls, talking to me like that. Still, he’d been thrown into deep shit, headfirst, and he’d rolled with it and done his job. Nobody wants to be the one telling an MC president that his woman’s fixin’ to kill him. The Silver Bastards prospect had showed me respect without fucking around.
I still hated him for what he’d discovered.
“Hate to say it ’cause I like London, but I’m with Puck on this one,” Gage said. He sat back in an old office chair I’d hauled down to my shop a few years ago. Right now it was positioned in front of a long, low table with two monitors set on top of it. They each split into four screens, playing a live feed of different rooms in my house. Ruger had a gift for electronics, no question.
I’d have to make sure he didn’t forget to take any of those little fuckers out after this was all over, too. Last I needed were eyes on what went on in there on a regular basis. Been damned fuckin’ hard to act normal this week, knowing the brothers were watching everything I did.
Make that almost everything. I didn’t let them put anything in the bedroom, because fuck that shit.
We’d spent a good part of the afternoon down here—Gage, me, Ruger, Horse, Painter, Bam Bam, and Duck. Bolt was off at Maggs’s place. Not sure what drama was goin’ down with those two. Hopefully I’d never find out. Couldn’t even manage my own woman, didn’t need to worry about his.
“Christ,” I said, watching London bustling around the kitchen on the monitor and sighing. I’d fallen for her, I realized. Not just fucking her, but her. Comin’ home to her felt good, and havin’ her with me at the party? Hadn’t felt like that since Heather was alive.
I’d never hated the cartel more than I did in that instant.
We might not have the full story here, but didn’t take a genius to see they were using Jessica to manipulate her. Was that an excuse? No. London should’ve come to me, let the club handle things.
“She’s got no fuckin’ clue what she got herself into here,” I muttered. Bam grunted.
“That’s how they work. Nobody sets out to get controlled and used by a fuckin’ cartel. They’re like parasites, workin’ their way in and then taking over until you can’t pull them out without killing the host. Lost cause at this point, Pic. She’s made her choice and it wasn’t you. Those weren’t blanks I pulled out of her purse—so far as she knows, that gun is still loaded and she’s obviously plannin’ to use it.”
I sighed, torn between wishing he wasn’t so damn blunt and thankful my brothers weren’t afraid to give it to me straight.
“So why are we still waiting?” Gage asked. “We go in and find out what’s going on—she won’t be able to hold out on us long. We can make a decision about what to do with her after that.”
“Because he’s hoping she’ll change her mind,” Duck muttered. He sat on a shop stool, eyeing all of us cynically. “Fuckin’ pussy thinks that maybe true love will conquer all, and then she’ll climb onto his bike and they’ll ride away into the sky on a rainbow while we all throw rose petals at them.”
Puck snorted, quickly turning it into a cough.
“Just ’cause you’re old doesn’t mean you can talk to me like that,” I told Duck, my voice like ice. He shrugged.
“Call it like I see it,” he said. “Whatever you do, let’s do it soon. If you want it to go all the way to the end, that’s fine with me. Just get moving because I’m hungry. Whether she tries to shoot you or not, that food she’s cookin’ will still taste good.”
“Jesus, Duck,” Painter muttered. Then he caught my eye. “If this is really goin’ down, I should grab Melanie. She’s upstairs, and I don’t know what London’s planning to do about her witnessing things. We don’t need her seein’ this shit. No more collateral damage than necessary, right boss?”
“Go get her,” I said. “Take her to dinner and a movie, or some such. Make it a date. That’ll be a good alibi for both of you if anything happens. I’ll keep you posted and if things go to hell you can dump her with one of the girls, sound good?”
“Yeah,” Painter said. “I’ll take her out and then tuck her in safe once you give the all clear. Good luck, Pic. Hope it works out okay.”
He leaned over and gave me a rough hug. I slapped his back, and the rest of us settled in to watch as he drove his bike around the back side of the hill, pulling into the driveway like he’d come directly from town.
“So, you find anything interesting in her purse besides that gun?” I asked Bam.
“Well, there’s the phone they’ve been usin’ to talk to her, but that’s nothing new.”
“Still fuckin’ pissed about that,” Ruger muttered. “Shouldn’t be so hard to crack the bastard, but still haven’t been able to tap it. Ninjas or something.”
Despite everything, I had to smile. Ruger wasn’t used to being beaten by technology.
“Finally met your match,” Duck grunted, his voice satisfied. “I keep tellin’ you, we can’t just count on electronic shit to cover us. Nothing like human intel combined with real firepower. Beats one of your little bugs any time.”
“Without my bugs, we’d have no idea what we’re walking into,” Ruger said. Duck rolled his eyes.
“You still got no idea,” he muttered. “We know she’s got a gun somewhere and we’re pretty sure she’s planning to shoot Pic. Has somethin’ to do with that kid of hers. Hard to know more without hearin’ both sides of the conversation, but it doesn’t really matter. We haven’t learned one damn thing about the cartel that’s new or useful in all of this, and I’ll bet she can’t tell us shit, either. This is the sideshow—the main event’s gonna be in Cali, not here.”
