The entire drive to Honey Bud Farm was a blur. She tried to stay focused on what would happen when she got there, what the hell she was going to say to Maurice to convince him that she wasn’t involved in any of this, even though she suddenly found herself involved up to her eyeballs. No, all she could think about was Joel’s damn words. Confusing her, flipping everything she’d convinced herself of on its head.
Damn it! she thought for the thousandth time since she’d left the club. Why did he have to be so confusing? One minute he was telling her that he ‘didn’t do girlfriends’ and the next he was holding her, telling her to be safe as if she mattered to him, and then kissing her. Oh boy, was he kissing her.
She’d never experienced anyone who could kiss with their whole body, but that’s what Joel did. It was like every atom of his body was focused on her and her alone when his lips met hers and it made her want to hold on forever.
But she knew that was a mistake.
It’s definitely a mistake, she lectured herself, again. It was the same argument she’d been having with herself since the first time she met him. She knew from the first that he was a heartbreaker, had known going in that it was just a fling, that it wasn’t anything more, right? But then why did he say the things that he did, why did he look at her the way that he did?
If he kept up like this, he was going to drive her absolutely nuts before this whole thing was over. And she had too much at stake to make any mistakes, like falling for the last person she should.
As she pulled down the long, winding dirt driveway that led to the farm, just how dire her situation was came back into sharp focus as she noticed the extra car parked in front of the office. It was a cop car. Maurice must have called them in as part of the investigation.
She slowed the car to a stop, but didn’t get out right away. She sat there for a long moment, the engine still running softly, unheeded, as her thoughts tumbled from chaos to panic and back again. Maybe Joel had been right. Maybe she shouldn’t have come back here. But she knew she’d been right as well. It would have pointed the suspicion straight at her if she hadn’t shown up. She hadn’t had a choice, really. And now that she was there, she had no choice but to move forward as if everything was normal.
A sudden knock on her window made her jump in her seat and she had to stifle a scream as she looked over and saw the stern face of an officer peering at her from just outside the car.
“Ma’am? I’m going to need you to come out now,” he said, his voice deep and serious, “I need to ask you some questions.”
With dread filling her, Carla slowly turned off the car, opened the door and stepped out. She had no choice.
Just keep moving forward, she reminded herself. Everything is riding on this. Joel is counting on you. He believes in you. It was that last thought that made her straighten her spine and plaster a confused smile on her face.
“Hi Officer, what can I help you with?” she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible.
“If you’ll just come with me, we’ll sit down inside.” He turned towards the office and she had no choice but to follow. She had to swallow her words as she passed by Maurice, standing there staring like a rooster about crow his victory. His malice and joy at seeing her sweat was painted across his red cheeked face and it made her hold herself that much straighter. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction and almost crowed herself when she saw his expression sink into a grimace.
The urge to grin in triumph faded fast as she glanced ahead of her once more and saw the officer, later than middle years with grey tinging his hair and beard, holding the door open for her. He looked like a jailer holding a cell open for an inmate to enter and the image of her in an orange jumpsuit and chains across her wrist and ankles did nothing to settle her nerves.
She walked in, full of trepidation but some of it calmed when Maurice tried to enter behind her and the officer held out a restraining hand.
“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d like to talk to her alone. It’ll be easier without her boss here, if you know what I mean?” The words were complacent enough but his tone brooked no nonsense.
Maurice opened his mouth as his pudgy face flushed even redder and he looked like he was about to snap at the cop, but a single raised eyebrow from the officer made him reluctantly shrug his compliance before he shuffled angrily out of the cramped office.
Only when Maurice was gone and the door shut firmly did the cop turn to her, his expression once more blank and foreboding at the same time.
“Alright. Why don’t you take a seat, Miss…”
“Jensen. It’s Carla Jensen.”
“Okay, Miss Jensen. Take a seat and we’ll get started. I have a lot of questions for you.” He waited until she sat in one of the old office chairs, it’s padding held in with patches of duct tape, before taking a seat himself. He pulled the chair until it faced her directly, the sound of the metal legs screeching loudly in the tense silence.
“Now, your employer is Maurice Montero, correct?”
“Yes, that’s correct,” she answered quickly.
“And how long have you worked for the farm here, and in what capacity?”
“Well, I’ve been here about five months. I graduated last year from the University of Colorado with a degree in botany, so I’m in charge of the actual plants, propagating new species, making sure the ones we have are healthy and thriving, and maintaining the quality of the planting process.” Carla began to relax a little as the questions came, all easily answered and her heartbeat slowed back to normal. It had been racing since the moment the cop had first tapped on her window.
“So, what do you know about the shipment of medical marijuana that recently was stolen?” he asked suddenly, sucker-punching her just as she was starting to calm.
She struggled for an answer and, as the interrogation progressed, the questions got tougher and tougher and she was forced to make up a lot of the answers on the spot. She only hoped that she had answered them well enough to not cast any doubt or suspicion on Joel or the Dirty Cruisers. She was pretty certain she hadn’t even mentioned them but as the hour of questioning stretched into two, Carla couldn’t even be sure of her own answers.
By the end she was sweating and felt like she’d been rung out like a dirty rag. There was nothing left and her thoughts were so frazzled she could barely remember what the questions had been, shot at her rapid fire as they were, let alone what she’d said back.
Finally, the grueling interrogation came to an end and she sighed in relief as the officer stood, politely thanked her for her time, and turned to leave. He paused for a moment at the door.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, and I’ll let your boss know as well. We’ve had several hits on these shipment trucks over the past twelve months. This is obviously part of a bigger operation. I recommend not driving any more shipments until we catch whoever’s behind this.”
“Thank–Thank you, officer. I think I’ll take you up on that advice,” she said shakily. He left, and Carla could just hear their muffled voices from outside, Maurice’s raised in outrage before being quickly silenced. She was curious for a moment what the cop had said to shut the abhorrent man up so fast but after the interrogation, she was exhausted. Her nerves were completely frazzled and she still had a day’s full work ahead of her.
Just as she was pulling herself out of the chair, trying to mentally prepare herself for the rest of the day, the door to the office burst open and she took a step back at the vicious look on Maurice’s face.
“You might have fooled him with your big blue eyes and innocent act, but I know the truth!” He advanced on her and she hastened to put the desk in between them. She’d seen Maurice lose his temper but this was different. There was something near hate gleaming from his beady eyes and she knew she was in real danger.
Maurice was more than a hundred pounds heavier than her and, even though it was mostly fat that filled out his large frame, she knew there was no way she could outmatch him if it came down to a fight. She prayed it wouldn’t.
Maurice trundled after her, blocking her path of escape. “I know you’re lying, Bitch. I have proof.”
“If you…you had proof, why didn’t you show it to the police?” she asked bravely, perhaps brashly. But a part of her needed to know what he thought he had on her. What if it led back to Joel or the club house? What if she endangered them without even knowing?
But suddenly he lunged towards her, grabbing her painfully by one wrist before she could back away even further and he yanked so hard she stumbled.
“Just understand this, Carla. If I find out you’re lying to me like I know you lied to that police officer, I’ll have you arrested so fast you’ll be in a cell before you even have time to realize what hit you,” he growled his statement in her face and she struggled to free her arm, to turn her away from his hot breath and terrible words.
“I didn’t lie. Just let me go,” she pleaded, her stomach knotting painfully in fear and panic and she fought to keep the anguished tears at bay, “Just leave me alone. Let me go.” She pulled on her arm to get away but it was like trying to pull against rock or stone. Immovable.
“You want me to let you go?” he asked, his voice greasy as it slid against her, “then give me what I want.”
“What you want?” she asked blankly and he jerked painfully at her arm again, gripping it so tightly she knew she’d have bruises.
“Don’t play coy with me, Carla. Give me what I want and I’ll go easy on you. Give me what we both want. You’ve teased me for so long…” His words trailed of as he leaned in to her, as if to give her a kiss and disgust and nausea rolled through her as his meaning became crystal clear. Sleep with him, or else.
Carla suddenly wished with all her heart that she had just listened to Joel in the first place. But it was too late. She was here, now, and there was no one else. She would just have to get herself out of this mess.
She fought to get free of his grip and from the corner of her eye she saw a heavy metal stapler sitting within reach. She grabbed it with her free hand, swinging it at him. Even though she missed, the shock of it made Maurice flinch backwards and loosen his hold just enough for her break free.
Carla made a dash for the door, not pausing at all as she heard Maurice charge after her.
“Get back here, bitch. You’ll regret this,” he yelled the rage-filled words, but slowed his pace, eventually stopping out of breath just beside the greenhouse.
She didn’t say anything until she was at her truck, had it unlocked, and was certain that he was no longer pursuing her. She took a deep breath.
“I quit!” Carla yelled, not even waiting for a response before getting into the driver’s seat, threw the ignition, and tore back down the long driveway. Only when she was on the highway on the way to the clubhouse did she start to feel safe. Only then did the shaking in her limbs start, and the tears that she’d been holding back begin to fall silently as she drove.
*
Maurice watched Carla drive away, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. So rapidly that he had to sit down on the small step leading up to the office to catch his breath. That was the most excitement he’d experienced since Carla had first started working there and his lungs pumped in and out in an effort to regulate itself.
It took a long moment for the anger and desire to ease enough for his thoughts to clear, and as they did, he pulled out his cell phone. He was already pulling up the GPS tracking app, nearly salivating as he watched the small blinking dot of light that signified Carla as it made its way steadily down the highway. It was the same route she’d taken many times as he’d watched, taking her to the mysterious new address she’d started to frequent. The place that she’d only started to go after the weed had been stolen.
The thought clicked in his mind, echoing like the sound of a gun being loaded and cocked. A malicious smile already spread across his sweat-soaked face as he closed the app and dialed the officer’s number. He had her now. How dare she refuse him, try and hit him? Oh no, her ass was his.
*
“So, you think your guy, this Sparkplug, can really move the product in a week?” Joel asked, taking another long sip of his beer as he looked across the table at Hot Wheels. Her white blond hair bounced animatedly as she nodded.
“Yeah, he was confident. He said he could probably even do it sooner if we need.” Hot Wheels said, her southern drawl thick as she took a sip of whatever sugary concoction Honey had poured for her. Joel shuddered. He couldn’t stand sweet drinks.
What if it’s Carla? his mind whispered and it conjured all sorts of images in his mind. He was already distracted, had been since she left, and that train of thought sure as hell wasn’t helping.
The heavy front door of the bar swung open and it was as if he’d conjured her from his very thoughts. Carla ran towards him and he could tell immediately something was off. She ignored the others, throwing herself against him as she tried to get her hitching breath under control.
Joel looked helplessly at the gathered crowd but Hot Wheels, Tucker, Viper, and Honey all just looked at him blankly for a long moment. Finally, Hot Wheels rescued him.
“Sugar, come on, now. You’re crying all over his leather jacket. Just come over here and tell me what happened.” Her soothing, southern accent must have gotten through to Carla a little bit because she pulled back just enough to look up at him and Joel sucked in a breath at the endless blue depths of her eyes. They were like twin pools of panic and fear and he could feel himself sliding in, drowning in her shattered gaze.
“What happened, Carla?” He repeated Wheels’s question but he made it a command, knowing that he had to take control, that he had to make her feel better, safer with him and he didn’t even question the instinct as he led her to a chair and gestured to Honey to pour her a glass of whiskey.
Joel waited until the bartender slid the glass in front of her and encouraged her to take a big sip to calm her nerves before asking her one final time.
“Carla, tell me. Tell us what happened.”
“I went to the farm like any normal day at work because I thought Maurice would get even more suspicious if I didn’t show.” She took a deep, shuddering breath and another pull at the whiskey filled glass before continuing, “Well, turns out it wouldn’t have mattered anyways. He had a cop there waiting for me.”
Joel reached out and grasped her hand, unconsciously trying to ease her pain at the memory. He didn’t see the look that Hot Wheels and Honey gave their clasped hands, and then each other. It was probably a good thing.
“What happened then, Sugar?” Hot Wheels prodded gently when Carla went silent.
“He took me into the office, interrogated me for a few hours. I think– I hope I did okay. With the answers, I mean. He asked them so fast and kept going back on himself, asking the same question in different ways to try and trip me up. But at the end…at the end he said I shouldn’t worry. That they’re tracking the big operation that’s behind the missing shipments.” Carla looked up then, looking at everyone sitting around the table. “I think they’re getting close, thought. He seemed confident.”
“Fuck!” Tucker spat the word, and Joel silently agreed.
“Hot Wheels, I think we’re gonna have to take Sparkplug up on his offer to move the weed sooner. Like now. Can he get here tonight?”
“I think so. He’s not too far out now. Could be here in a couple of hours. I’ll give him a call.” Hot Wheels confirmed with a nod.
“Good. We’ll hash out the details tonight and get this weed out of here and across state lines as soon as possible. We need this shipment out of hands before some shit goes down. Tucker, you go with Viper. Get the weed together in a truck. Something low key and get it ready to move as soon as possible.”
Hot Wheels, Tucker, and Viper all left the table to fulfill their different jobs and Joel gestured at Honey to give them some space. Soon, it was just him and Carla sitting at the big wooden table.
She took another big gulp of the burning alcohol with trembling hands.
“What else happened, Carla?” Joel asked, sensing there was a hell of a lot more the story than what she’d told him already.
“It was Maurice,” she finally said, her words shaky as she spoke, “He, um, he cornered me. After the cop had left. He told me I was lying. He said, he said to give him what he wanted and he’d go easy on me. It was like last time, but he grabbed me, he put his hands on me. He tried to kiss me.” Carla stopped, rubbing at her wrist where he could already see faint bruises appearing on her pale skin and rage, more intense than he had ever felt in his life, flooded through him obliterating every other thought, every other need, than to hurt the man that had dared to touch her.
“I tried to hit him with a stapler and he was so surprised he let me go. I ran…I just ran away.” It took everything inside him to reign in the anger pushing to react as she spoke and when she looked at him with humor somehow glimmering in her beautiful blue eyes, his respect for her grew even more. He’d known from the start that there was a hidden strength in her, had known it from the first time he’d thrown open that truck door and seen her sitting there, unafraid even thought she’d just been overrun by a biker gang.
“I quit.” She said with a faint smile tugging at her still trembling lips.
“You what?” Joel said with a surprised laugh. It eased some of the anger, enough to shove it away until later, anyways. Until he could take it out and use it for a purpose.
“Just before I drove away, I yelled at him. I told him I quit.” She was grinning proudly now through the tears that still shone wetly in her eyes and all he could do was lean forward and kiss her. He needed to taste that smile for himself, and the sheer joy of it spread through him like sunshine before he pulled back.
“Come on,” he finally said, holding out a hand to her as he stood, “We’ve got a lot of work to do to get ready for tonight.” She slid her palm against his and he hissed out a breath at the feeling. Like heaven, and sweetness…and Carla.