“This motherfucker better be legit,” I said. “If he gives me the smallest idea that he’s not, we’re walking.”

Enough time had passed that it was safe to sell the gold on the black market. The man who was to give us pricing for it was a commodities trader that lived in Brentwood, an upscale neighborhood that adjoined Beverly Hills. Despite coming highly recommended by the Hells Angels local Sergeant-at-Arms, I didn’t trust the man.

Cash glanced over his right shoulder, and scoffed. “He’s as strong as they day is long.”

I coughed a laugh. “Did you just make that up?”

His eyes shifted to the road. “It rhymed. I was pretty proud of myself for making it up.”

“Been pretty proud of you too, lately.”

He changed lanes and then flipped his hair away from his eyes. “Why’s that?”

“You’ve been civil about Andy. I appreciate you giving us a little space, even if it is nothing more than a rest from your verbal assaults.”

He gave me a quick look. “A little verbal assault never hurt anyone.”

“It’s annoying.”

“I figured out a few weeks back that you’re not pumping her for information, you’re pumping her with your dick.” He looked at me and held my gaze, despite being in charge of driving. “This deal’s real, ain’t it?”

“Not sure.”

“Liar.”

“It might end up being the real deal, who knows.”

He rolled to a stop at a traffic light and then gave me an evil glare, Cash style. “It’s real as fuck right now.”

“Hard to tell.”

“Maybe hard for you to tell. You’re star struck or whatever. All of us can see it. Hell, we talk about it.”

I was glad to see him opening up about it. Curious to find out the MC’s opinion, I trudged on. “What does everyone say?”

“Nobody’s pissed. Goose said the other day if he heard anyone talking trash he was gonna start slicing tires. Pretty much stopped that afternoon.” He grinned a sly grin. “Even the playing around.”

It mattered to me what Cash thought. More than anyone, really. He was hypersensitive, and childish in so many ways. I felt a need to make sure any questions he may have weren’t unanswered. The traffic signal changed, and he inched away from the light.

“What if this gal and me get serious? What would you think?” I glanced over my shoulder, and then made clarification. “If it ever gets that far?”

“Tried to think about it, but it ain’t easy. Other’n Goose marrying that chick with the kids for a while, it’s always been us. Just us. Guess for me, it gets down to trust.” He looked at me and shrugged his right shoulder against his jaw. “And, you know me. I don’t trust anyone.”

It was the understatement of the decade. He didn’t trust anyone. Prepared to take the conversation a little further, I reached into my pocket to rub my lucky keychain.

My eyes widened.

I checked my other pocket.

“Turn around,” I said.

“Huh?”

“Turn around,” I demanded.

“What?” he asked with a laugh. “Need to knock off a piece?”

“Keychain. It’s at home.”

He glared. “Seriously?”

Embarrassed, I simply nodded. “Make it quick.”

He did a U-turn in the middle of the street, and began backtracking to the clubhouse. I shoved my hands deep into both front pockets, and then gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, Brother.”

In ten minutes we were a block away. Normally, I’d have had him go down the alley, and into the parking garage. The black Dodge Charger parked along the curb caused me to change my mind.

I pointed toward the car. “Park in front of that Charger.”

“Looks like a cop car. You sure?”

“Positive.”

He parked in front of it. I leapt from the truck, walked to the front bumper of the car, and noticed no one was inside. After peering through the windshield and the side windows, I was convinced the car was empty. The doors were locked as could be expected.

I walked back to the truck, wondering the entire way if I was simply paranoid.

“What the fuck’s going on?” he asked as I got in the truck.

“Car’s been out here from time to time for about a month. Maybe longer.”

“Might live above the bar.”

“I doubt it. It’s here at weird times.”

“Wanna run up from here?” he asked.

“No. Hit the parking garage.”

He glared at me. “Just run up from here.”

“Parking. Garage.”

He put the truck in gear and stomped the gas pedal. “Okay motherfucker.”

Minutes later, much to Cash’s displeasure, we were on the elevator together. Me to get my keychain, and him to piss. When we left, Andy was still asleep. I feared she was still home, and wondered how Cash may react to her Sunday morning presence.

When we go the door, I realized I didn’t have my keys. Frustrated that I hadn’t locked the place, I turned the unlocked handle and pushed the door open.

When the room came into view, I froze. Some cocksucker stood at the edge of kitchen with a pistol pointed at Andy’s head. Despite fifteen years of training for such an occasion, there was nothing I could do without putting her at risk.

My mind went from recognizing the threat to boiling over with anger. “What in the absolute fuck is going on?” I seethed.

“I’ll kill this bitch.” Facing me, he snatched her off the bar stool and put her in a chokehold.

You’re fucking with the wrong girl, motherfucker.

You are a dead man. Either way this goes, you die.

My jaw went tight. All I needed to do was clear my pistol from my holster. Hidden by the hem of my tee shirt, it was neatly tucked into the waist of my jeans, in a quick-draw holster. If I could get him to divert his eyes away from my waist, I’d drop the cocksucker where he stood.

“I fucking swear.” He pressed the pistol to the back of Andy’s head. “Don’t take another step, Baker.”

I needed one second. One extremely long second. That was all. With my heart in my throat, I prayed that he not move a muscle. If he did, the woman I loved would be a goner.

Come on, girl. Look at me. Look at me, baby. When I say this, pull away. Run. You’ll know it’s a lie as soon as it rolls off my tongue.

“Her?” I lifted my hands to my chest. “I don’t give a fuck, kill her. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“I’m not fucking around, Baker.” He fixed his eyes on mine. “I’ll put one in the back of this bitch’s head.”

She was facing me, standing in front of him. The only parts of him that were exposed were his head and his left shoulder. My vision narrowed. All that existed was him, and me.

It was a one in a million shot, but I had to take it.

I had to.

Slowly, I began to lower my hands.

“Keep your hands where I can see them, motherfucker!” he shouted, pulling her even closer to his center mass. He bent his knees and crouched behind her, leaving only a small portion of his forehead and eyes exposed.

I didn’t have a clear shot. Not without putting Andy at risk. I was fucked. So was she.

The concussion from a gun being fired deafened me. Startled, I drew my pistol, but it was too late. Andy’s face was plastered with blood. She fell from the man’s arms and collapsed on the floor.

I pulled the trigger instinctively, hitting the man in the center of the chest.

He crumbled to the floor. Confused, scared, and deaf from the two gunshots being fired in the confines of the home, I ran the length of the living room, toward Andy.

I kicked his pistol across the concrete floor and dropped to my knees at Andy’s side. As I brushed her blood-soaked hair away from her face, she opened her eyes.

“I didn’t. I didn’t tell him a thing,” She muttered. “I swear.”

“Oh my God.” I blubbered. “You’re…you’re okay?”

“God damned right she’s okay,” Cash spouted. “No thanks to you.”

I pulled off my shirt and wiped the blood from her face. “You haven’t been hit?”

“Not by anything but the back of his hand.” She sat up and hugged me. “He’s uhhm. He’s a cop. Did you see his badge? It was on his belt.”

I looked over my right shoulder. With an open-eyed death stare, the dead man looked back at me. Blood oozed from a hole in the center of his forehead.

Confused, I started to speak, but couldn’t.

Cash picked up the man’s pistol, looked at it, and then at me. “Government issue Sig Sauer. Must be a fed. Good thing I got that prick before he got your girl, huh?”

At that instant, for the first time, it dawned on me. The man didn’t get a shot off. The gunshot that deafened me was Cash’s. He’d shot the man right between the eyes. He’d taken the one in a ten million shot that I feared taking.

Doing so saved Andy’s life.

“Good work, Brother,” I said, my voice laced with emotion. “You saved her.”

“Can’t let cocksuckers go around threatenin’ my best friend’s ol’ lady, can I?” He walked past us and kicked the dead man in the ribs. “Wonder who this fucker is.”

“Get his wallet and his keys out of his pocket,” Andy said. “Push the door lock button on his key fob and you’ll find his car. Then you can search it. Maybe that’ll help you find out. Find his phone, too. They’ll be doing a trace on it.”

“God damn,” Cash said with a laugh. “Is your night job being a hit woman?”

She wiped the back of her head, and then looked at her blood-stained hand. “I watch a lot of Netflix. At least I used to.”

Cash searched the man, found his keys and wallet, and shoved them in his front pocket. Then, he reached over my shoulder with a bloody hand. “We haven’t officially met yet. Name’s Brock, but everyone in the MC calls me Cash.”

She shook his hand. “Andy. Andy Winslow. Nice to meet you, Brock.”

He released her hand and cleared his throat. “Call me Cash.”