Kaci

 

We took one of Micah's spare bikes back to Club Hades. The city was already alive and teeming with life as we rode through traffic and pulled up behind the bar on Bourbon Street.

 

Micah's face was stony, his expression set in granite as we rode. No smiles, no laughter. Of course, he had made breakfast for me. That was nice. It had been a while since a man had made me eggs after I'd spread my . . . well, you get it.

 

Micah didn't bring up what happened the night before, and I didn't either. He didn't lean in for a soft lover's kiss like the one from the night before, and I paid it no mind. Focusing on keeping him happy kept me from keeping my mind where it needed to be: Efraim Petrov.

 

Together, we headed upstairs, into the center of the F&B MC operations.

 

Micah went around collecting Gov and Grin, and whoever else was around, while I stopped in and checked on Sydney.

 

I knocked on the door and waited for her to call out.

 

“Come in,” she said after a while, her voice sounding a little lower than normal.

 

I pushed open the door and went inside, the smell of antiseptic hitting me like a subtle sledgehammer. She was sprawled out in her makeshift hospital bed, her skin pallid and the rings around her eyes so dark she looked like she'd pissed off the wrong James. “Hey,” she warbled at me, smiling widely.

 

“How's it hanging, girl?” I asked with a wan smile as I went over and propped one hip up on the edge of her bed, taking a seat.

 

“Tired,” she said. “Hurts like a sumbitch still, but other than that I'm good.”

 

I smiled at her, reached out to push some of her lank hair behind her ear. “Guess you can scratch getting shot off your bucket list,” I said.

 

“Yeah,” she said, laughing a little, “guess so.”

 

We didn't say anything else, not for a long moment. “So,” I finally began, purposely and slowly speaking each word, “I wanted to apologize for fucking everything up last night.”

 

She nodded as she listened.

 

“I fucked up. I fucked up real bad, and I almost got you killed. I'm sorry, Sydney.”

 

“Yeah, you're right,” she said after a while. “You did fuck up bad. I mean, like, horribly, awfully, astronomically bad.”

 

“Yeah,” I agreed, my lips pressed tight together.

 

“Like, so bad, if I were to tell someone on the street what you did, they'd call me a liar. Because no one ever fucks up that bad. Never.”

 

“Yup.”

 

“So bad, in fact, we could probably call up Guinness World Records on the phone and get them out here.”

 

“I agree.”

 

She smiled and shrugged. “But, it's kind of okay. I forgive you, I guess.”

 

“You guess?” I asked in a fake, unsure tone, taking one of her hands in mine and squeezing it. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding and squeezing weakly back. “I love you like a sister, Kaci. Even if you do some stupid-ass shit sometimes. Just don't ever forget that, okay?”

 

I nodded, my eyes starting to spring a leak. I reached up with my free hand and wiped away the rain drop that had suddenly fallen from the sky. “Okay. I love you, too, girl.”

 

“I know,” she said, smiling back with that same wan smile. “But, I'll be fine soon. Doc says I just need to rest.”

 

We stayed like that for a little while, just talking. Micah came by soon after, though, and knocked on the open door. “Kaci,” he said. “Meeting time.”

 

“Coming,” I said, and had to suppress a little bit of a grin at my words.

 

“Oh no,” Sydney said after Micah disappeared back into the hallway. “You fucking slut,” she said good-naturedly, her tone saying she was just messing with me.

 

“What?” I asked, trying to fake my innocence.

 

“Oh, Kaci,” she said, grinning. “How was he?” she asked, readjusting in her pile of pillows. “Big?”

 

I grinned. “No idea what you're talking about.”

 

“You're telling me you can get me shot with a harebrained scheme, but you can't tell me what his cock looks like?” Kaci asked, shaking her head. “I thought we loved and trusted each other,” she squeaked lowly.

 

“Kaci!” Micah called from the hallway again. He'd returned, and he looked more frustrated and impatient than anything else. “Let's fucking go!”

 

“Back in a few,” I promised as I got up off Sydney's bed and headed for the door.

 

“Don't leave me hanging, woman,” Sydney squeaked out at me, her voice sounding more like her own. “Just tell me!”

 

Micah gave us both an inquiring look as I approached.

 

“Nothing,” I assured him. Then I turned around and, grinning, gestured to her with my hands eight or nine inches apart, estimating about how long I thought Micah was.

 

Sydney laughed. “You go girl,” she squeaked as she weakly pumped her tiny fist in the air.

 

Together, he and I headed through the halls, destination: meeting room. I had to fight the urge to just stare in awe at him as he stalked through the halls. Memories of the night before flashed in my mind. Memories of his hand entangled in my hair, of his grip on my throat, of his lips wrapped around a stiff nipple as he pounded into me on the hood of his Camaro. I pushed them all down, though, and tried to remind myself what I was doing here.

 

“Your friend doing okay?” he asked, his voice gruff and a little distant.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “She'll be fine.”

 

“So our vet tech did okay?”

 

I almost laughed, but I kept it bottled in. Instead, I just nodded curtly. “Yep. He did fine.”

 

We went into the meeting room, where Gov and Grin were already waiting for us.

 

“Alright men,” he said as we took our seats at the table. “Where do we go from here?”

 

He seemed at first glance like he was open to negotiation, and input from his men. But, from what I'd learned with just my short time here, his mind was made up. This was all a formality to him.

 

“We need to lay off Petrov,” Gov said. “That much is obvious.”

 

“Why's it obvious?” Micah asked, settling back into his chair. “He doesn't know it's us.”

 

Gov laughed and shook his head. “You mean last night wasn't a tip off that he did?”

 

Micah dismissed Gov's concerns with a wave of his hand. “Look, if Efraim knew it was us, we'd have guys kicking in our doors, wouldn't we? I, for one, didn't have any goons whispering in Russian outside my bedroom door last night. Did you, Grin?”

 

Grin shook his head, smiling a little.

 

“I think he knows it's one group ripping him off. But, I bet last night was just their new security. And, besides, no one got a good look at us. Least, not anyone that could say anything.”

 

A somber moment descended on the room as the two other men recalled what Micah had done the night before, the two bodies they'd tossed out into the bayou to be either discovered by the cops, or eaten by gators.

 

“Still say it's risky,” Gov replied. “Grin?”

 

“Well,” Grin said, dragging the word out, “everything's pretty damn risky, when you get down to it, don'tcha think? I mean, we're ripping people off and shit, no matter which way you look at it. Back when we was doing electronics knock-overs with Micah's Pa, you still was worried about some trucker going all Shotgun Willie on you. Personally, if you might get shot either way, I'd rather get a fat payday for my troubles.”

 

Gov grumbled a little at Grin's support of Micah's plan, but he seemed to resign himself to it. The club was with their president, even if it was a bad idea.

 

But, strange thing was, I didn't think Gov was trying to wrench control away from Micah. At least not on purpose. He just seemed like he was cautious, and was trying to think of the safest way to keep the cash flowing in. No one wants to die, right?

 

Micah turned his attention to Gov. “How about we give it a month?” he asked. “Let things cool down, see if Efraim picks up our trail or not.”

 

Gov grumbled a little as he considered his buddy's words. “Fine,” he said after a while, “a month. I'll agree to a month.”

 

Personally, a month was probably prudent. It would make Efraim focus on other gangs, maybe, convince him to lower his guard a little. More importantly, though, I thought it would give me a chance to come up with another plan while I laid low and looked at my options. Of course, I had to make sure I didn't spend that month mooning over Micah's rugged face and hard body. Or, well, other hard things.

 

I had to remember to keep it all business from here on out.

 

“A month, then,” Micah said. “Kaci, you got anything?”

 

I slowly shook my head. “A month seems reasonable,” I said. “Perfect, in fact.”

 

Just one more month, Rommy. Just one more month.

 

“Alright,” Micah said, nodding emphatically. “One month. And, we'll need it. I got a plan, and it might take a while to cook up. This time, though, we're gonna pull it off without a hitch.”

 

# # #

Micah

 

“Come on, Gov,” I said to my best friend as he rolled his eyes, “let's have a little optimism in the room here.”

 

Gov sighed and Grin grinned. Grin and I might not have been buddies, not the way Gov and I were, but he was at least always down for a good heist.

 

I'd come up with the plan on the ride into Club Hades, and I immediately felt ridiculous for not coming up with something like it sooner.

 

“Alright,” I began. “This one's easy. Doesn't involve the girls as bait, so we ain't got any innocents in the mix. The plan was good before, but it wasn't flexible enough to deal with any unexpected twists. This time, we're going to go straight for the source. We take out a guard at the port, and the driver, and we just drive that whole goddamn thing out of there. Knock 'em out, no killing, nothing like that.”

 

“Shit,” Gov and Kaci both said at the same time. They both looked at each other and shook their heads.

 

I glanced over at them, one eyebrow raised. “Problem?”

 

Before they could answer, though, there was a knock at the meeting room door.

 

“Grin?” I asked, gesturing to the door with a nod.

 

Grin got up and answered the door while Gov started to detail his objections to the idea. “Dude, the Port Authority ain't someone to fuck around with. Ain't we getting into Goveral shit on that?”

 

“Micah?” Grin asked. “Your grandpa's on the line for the club.”

 

That was strange. Grandpa Quentin never called here looking for me. Normally, I guess, he would have just called my cell phone, but I had to leave that out in the hallway so we could keep the room free of anything that could be a risk of being bugged.

 

“Dunno what he wants,” Grin said, “but Cutter is saying he sounds fucking pissed.”

 

I got up from the table and went to leave the room. “Alright,” I said. “I'll talk to him. Just a minute, guys.”

 

I grabbed the phone from Cutter, one of the lower guys in the club, and stepped away from the meeting room as Grin closed the door behind me.

 

“Grandpa?” I asked as I took the phone. “What's up?”

 

“Get your ass out to the house right fucking now,” he said, his voice hard and brittle, the words clipped and devoid of any of the belly-laughing chuckle it normally had. “We need to talk, and I know your phone probably isn't safe.”

 

Then, he just hung up on me without waiting for my response.

 

I pulled the handset away from my ear and looked disbelievingly at the phone. Grandpa had just cussed at me like I was a naughty teenage boy that had been busted skipping school. He'd never spoken to me like that before, not in my life. I knew it was bad, then. Real bad.

 

I gingerly hung up the phone and went back into the meeting room. “Kaci,” I said, “we gotta go. Now.”

 

I told the guys I'd explain later and rushed Kaci out of the room. We hopped on my bike and sped out to Grandpa Quentin's house. Kaci was smart enough to keep her questions to herself as I wove through traffic at a breakneck speed, my hands so tight on the grips I was amazed I didn't end up with diamonds in my palms when I came to a halt in the driveway.

 

“What is this about?” Kaci asked as we got off the bike.

 

“Dunno,” I said. “Grandpa's got something to tell me, and he couldn't do it on the phone. And, he sounds pretty pissed, too.”

 

“Great,” Kaci said. Clearly, she didn't feel like getting yelled at today, either.

 

I led her inside as we entered the house without knocking. “Grandpa?” I called out.

 

“In the kitchen, Micah,” he shouted back, his voice just as angry as when we'd spoken on the phone earlier.

 

Kaci and I exchanged a glance, one that said she'd cover me if I wanted to make a run for it. I shook my head a little bit, frowned, and we headed into the kitchen to join Quentin.

 

“Sit,” Quentin said as we entered the kitchen, his voice tightly wound. “Now.”

 

We both silently took a seat, the stools scraping on the tile like wretched claws on a gravestone. All you could hear was the air-conditioning blowing in the other room, and the slight wobble of a ceiling fan as it shook in its mounting.

 

“Got a call from someone I still knowing in the Bureau. There's footage of you at the Hilton the other night, the night Abram Ivanovich was shot to death. Front and center.”

 

I opened my mouth to reply, but he just hushed me like a child.

 

“Don't you fucking say a word to me,” he said, his voice low and filled with unspoken threat, “unless it's to explain how in the goddamned fuck you got mixed up with the Bear.”

 

I sighed, my mind already trying to figure out a way to explain this and keep Kaci's hands clean in the whole affair. There wasn't any sense in her getting yelled at, or worse, so much worse, over this whole thing. “Okay,” I started. “I was there, with Gov, that much is true. But it's not what you think.”