Chapter Nine

 

Creed

 

Her words knocked the air from my lungs.  “What?” Anger flared through me as I reached for the dead man, digging until my fingers touched on his wallet.  I flipped it open.  “Richard Docker,” I read, letting Clutch take the wallet from my numb fingers.  “He was following us.”

Clutch leaned into the car, searching for something.

“Maybe he worked for Grant,” Jailbait offered faintly, her gaze still locked on the dead man’s face. I tugged her away, suddenly sorry I’d brought her to see him.  She’d seen too much death.

Clutch wiggled a phone at me.  “Let’s see what he was up too.”  He swiped at the screen, cursing, “Locked.”

Jailbait sniffed and reached out for the phone.  Clutch released it so she could inspect it.  She moved back to the car, pausing for a second before grabbing the dead man’s hand.  She pressed his finger to the back of the phone, shaking her head when nothing happened.  She tried another finger and then let out a breath. “Got it.”  She handed the phone to me, unlocked, and I stared at her respectfully.

I scrolled through the phone, finding several texts.  “He was definitely Grant’s man,” I muttered, skimming the conversation.  “They were watching her, looking for a chance to grab her.”

“Why didn’t they just get their cop friends to come sweep the club if they suspected she was there?”  Clutch questioned as he motioned us away from the car.

“Because it would be harder to keep quiet,” I replied with loathing.  “This way, no questions.”

“He didn’t text him that he was following us,” Jailbait whispered, thumb brushing the screen as she read the texts.  She looked up.  “We have a chance to draw him out.”

“Jailbait?” I questioned hesitantly, suddenly leery of her expression.

“We text him back, saying he’s got me, but the car is totaled.  Grant is going to come, giving us our chance.”

I exchanged a glance with Clutch who raised his eyebrow.  “It could work.”

“I plan to kill him,” I reminded Jailbait, not sugarcoating the truth. Her eyes gleamed as they met mine.

“I hope so.”

I released the breath I’d been holding and nodded.  “Then, let’s do this.”

She started typing and I read over her shoulder, “Got the package, car totaled, need a pickup.”

Within seconds a reply came through.  She glanced at me, “He wants the location.”

I gave her a brief description, watching her type. 

“He’s on his way,” she stated without emotion. “You think he’ll come?”  A hint of uncertainty colored her voice.

“He will,” I confirmed. “He won’t risk losing you now that he thinks he has you.” I glanced at Clutch.  “Sorry, man, but we’re going to need your bike.”  He nodded acceptingly, going to the bike and parking it in the middle of the road.

“What’s he doing?”  Jailbait asked, watching as Clutch went to the truck and got in.

“Totaling his bike,” I answered, knowing his pain as he backed the truck up and then drove forward.  I felt Jailbait jump as he slammed the truck into the bike.  “We need it to look like this guy managed to get us off the road.”  She nodded, moving with me as Clutch got out to inspect the damage.

“Good enough?”  He called, his expression stoic as he stood in front of his pride and joy, now mangled beyond repair.

“Yeah, let’s get it over here,” I said, helping him to move the bike nearer to the car.  “You willing to play me?”

“Hell, yeah,” he replied as we laid the bike on its side.  “Where you want to move the truck?”

I nodded to a grove of trees.  “There’s a dirt path up there.  Probably someone’s hunting trail.  We can stash the truck there.”

He nodded, heading back to the truck, as I picked up the helmet I’d tossed aside when I was rushing to get to Jailbait.  “I won’t let him hurt you,” I promised her and she nodded.

“I know you won’t.”  She bumped against me.  “Just make sure you don’t get hurt.”  We watched Clutch jog back toward us.  “This probably falls under the whole don’t do anything stupid Johnny warned you about,” she mused, startling a surprised laugh out of me.

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

She shook her, staring at the black sedan.  “How did he know though?  He was watching the club and followed us but how did he know to watch the club?”

“Not sure.  A question we can ask Grant, but my guess is one of his guys saw our kutte.” I glanced down at her, wondering if I’d led the danger straight to her.  “Our emblem is pretty distinctive.  It wouldn’t take much digging to find out where we are.”

She ducked her head, looking upset.  “I led them to you.  This is my fault.  You could have been killed because of me.”

“No, no, no, Jailbait.  Wrong interpretation,” I replied, drawing her to a stop.  “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” I said reluctantly.  “If he found you, it was because this jacket gave him a place to look.”

“It also provided a safe haven,” she said determinedly, poking me in the chest right over the VP stitched there.  “I wouldn’t have had a chance if it wasn’t for you. You went out of your way to save me. I owe you my life.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I was relieved when Clutch came up, snacks in his hand.  “Figured we could eat while we waited,” he suggested holding up a stick of beef jerky.

“Yeah, we just need to do one more thing,” Jailbait mentioned and I glanced at her.  “Swap your jacket with the dead guy.”

I grimaced, not relishing the idea of wearing a dead man’s clothes, but nodded my agreement.  Clutch helped me peel the jacket off the guy and I folded my own jacket carefully before pulling the other one on.  It was tight across the shoulders but would pass from a distance, which is all we needed.

By unspoken agreement, we all went to sit by the mangled bike, Clutch setting his helmet on the ground next to him.  “To an old friend,” he toasted, tapping the beef jerky stick against the bike.  “We spent many hours together.”  He frowned, staring at the ground.  “You were my longest relationship and the best ride I’ve ever had.”

“That’s sad on so many levels,” I muttered, patting the fuel tank.

“Can you fix it?”  Jailbait asked, plopping on the ground next to Clutch and grabbing a candy bar.  He shook his head sadly.

“I can salvage parts,” he answered as he looked his bike over.  “Maybe,” he amended.

“I’m really sorry,” she replied, her green eyes huge as she gazed at him remorsefully.  “It’s all my fault.”

“Nah,” Clutch said instantly, waving his arm.  “It’s the asshole that doesn’t take no for an answer that’s at fault.”  He looked up.  “And he’ll pay.”

I nodded in agreement, tucking the gun Clutch had pulled from the truck into the waistband of my jeans.  “This ends today,” I promised, settling next to them.

Jailbait’s forehead wrinkled.  “Is that the same gun?”  She pointed to my back.  “The one that killed the dog fighter.”

I nodded grimly.  “It is.  I planned to hide it today.”  I glanced around, a sharp breath gusting from me, and Clutch offered me a beef stick.

“Will that cause a problem?”  Jailbait questioned, glancing between us.  “The gun can tie you to the dog fighter.”

“Yeah, and now it’ll connect two unrelated deaths,” I replied, biting off part of the beef jerky.  “It’s only a problem if the gun is found on me,” I reassured her.  “That won’t happen.”

“Okay,” she murmured, finishing off her candy bar.  “I have another question.” I nodded, expecting her to ask about how I planned to kill Grant or what would happen next.  “How can I get Ronnie to let Candy work at the salon?”

My lips parted and then the question registered, “Wait, what?”

Clutch and I stared at her, neither sure we’d heard her correctly.

“Candy wants to do hair. I told her I’d talk to Ronnie, but I can’t figure out how to convince Ronnie to give her a chance.”

“Candy wants to do hair?” I repeated, still stuck on that statement.  “I thought she wanted to be an old lady.”

“She does, but that’s not working out and she loves working with hair.  The problem is –”

“Ronnie,” Clutch interrupted and Jailbait nodded.  “She won’t let club girls work at the salon.”

“I didn’t know that,” I muttered, passing Jailbait a pack of crackers.

“Me either until Candy told me,” she admitted, stuffing an entire cracker in her mouth.  “But she’s really good at hair and I think it’ll be good for her self-esteem if she can work at the salon.”

Clutch’s eyes met mine and he mouthed, “Self-esteem?”

“The thing I need to figure out is how to convince Ronnie to give her a chance,” Jailbait tapped her lip.  “Is there anything she wants?  Like an exchange of favors?”  She looked at Clutch and he shook his head.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“Because you know her best?”  Jailbait suggested, glancing at me for support.  I had to agree with her as we both turned to look at him.  “I mean you’ve been in love with her for years.  You’re bound to know what she’d want.”

He growled, muttering curses under his breath, but finally relented.  “Kara,” he grunted, staring at the ground. “I know she hates having to ask her mom to babysit all the time.” He lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug.  “If you offered to babysit, she might give Candy a chance.”

Jailbait nodded in understanding, “Tit for tat.  That’s a great idea. I knew you’d know.”  She punched his shoulder lightly.  “It’s really too bad she never gave you a shot.”

He gave a close lipped smile, pushing to his feet.  “I think I’ll go check the road.  The creepy roadside picnic has been fun but I’m done when we start talking about my love life.”  He was already walking away when I heard him mutter under his breath, “Or lack of.”

Jailbait cringed, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Its a’ight,” I waved it off.  “He’s always been touchy when it comes to Ronnie.  Especially since Kara was born.”

“I guess he figured he really didn’t have a shot after that,” she commented, gathering up the wrappers from our snacks.  She glanced over her shoulder to the car.  “I guess it is disrespectful to eat when that guy just died.”

“That guy would have dragged you to Grant and not lifted a finger to help you,” I replied, casting a disinterested glance at him.  “He’s lucky he died on impact.”

“You know, you’re kind of scary,” Jailbait mentioned, bringing my gaze to hers as my heart gave a dull thump.  I had wondered when it would be too much for her.

“You scared of me, Jailbait?” I forced the question out, not allowing my own sudden fear of her answer to show.

She studied me for a second, then shook her head. “No.”  I exhaled, ignoring the relief that coursed through me.  “I think you have your own code.”  She plucked at my jacket.  “I can respect that.  I can even understand it.”  She stared up at me fiercely.  “I want justice for my mom.”  I nodded, promising myself she’d get exactly that.  “He’d never pay for what he did that day, not in a court, but you can make sure he never does it again.”

I nodded again, my hand covering hers, stilling the restless thrumming of her fingers.  “It’s not just your mom I’m getting justice for,” I told her.  “He hurt you too.”  Her eyes glistened, reminding me of the terror I’d seen in them the first time our eyes had met.  “I don’t know what happened that day,” I said carefully, swallowing hard as she lowered her head.  “The day you and your mom ran, but he took something from you,” her throat bobbed, “And today, I want to give that back to you.”  Her gaze rose to meet mine.  “You never need to fear him again,” I promised, locking our fingers together.

She gave me a soft smile.  “I haven’t feared him….not since I met you.”

“Guys, show time.”  Clutch headed back toward us, sliding the helmet on as he laid down next to his bike.  “I’ve got your back.”

I nodded, already knowing it without being told.  I grabbed Jailbait’s upper arm, making it look like I was restraining her as we stood by the back of the car.  “Look scared,” I reminded her with a wink.  She ducked her head, trying to pull her body as far away from mine as she could. We heard the roar of a car and I hoped like hell it wasn’t some country kid joyriding.  The squeal of brakes combined with yet another black sedan told me we had our guy.

An older man climbed from the car, buttoning his jacket as he came toward us.  His entire body vibrated, his gaze locked on Jailbait, as he smiled in delight.  My lip curled at the sight of him.  It was definitely the guy who’d run them off the road that day.

“Sloan, my dear, I’ve been so worried about you,” he caroled and Jailbait’s body went taut under my grip.  I reached back for my gun, deciding that was enough for me, but it was gone.  Grant came to a sudden stop, his gaze now focused on the gun in Jailbait’s hand.  He chuckled, “Come now, Sloan.  You don’t want to do that. I’ll take excellent care of you.”

“You killed her,” she stated, her voice terrifyingly devoid of any emotion.  “You hurt me, but you destroyed her,” she continued, the gun steady in her hand.  “She trusted you and you betrayed her.”

“Jailbait,” I crooned under my breath.  “Let me do this.  You don’t want his blood on your hands.”

“You can’t kill me,” Grant scoffed, completely unconcerned. From the corner of my eye, I saw Clutch rise, but I kept my focus on Jailbait and the cocked gun in her hand.

“I promise I’ll make him pay,” I swore to her.  “Just give me the gun.”

“I don’t like when people hurt the ones I love,” she shouted.  “When they threaten them.”

“Your mom was a casualty of your own doing,” Grant blustered.  “If you hadn’t fought, if you hadn’t run – ”

“This is not your fault,” I muttered desperately. “Her death was not your fault.”  I slowly reached for the gun.  “Give me the gun and I’ll make sure the guilty one pays the price.”

“I’ll always wonder,” she answered, her chin tilting up.  “If it could have turned out differently, but you’re still guilty.”  Her finger curved around the trigger as her mouth curled up.  “And you’ll pay.”

The crack took me by surprise, Clutch too as he stilled, both of us watching Grant fall to the ground, an expression of shock following him into death.

“I’m sorry,” Sloan whispered, turning to stare at me. “I had to do it.”

“Jailbait,” I murmured, my voice trailing off at the pain in her eyes.

“My mom kept a gun by her bed,” she continued, the words spilling out of her.  “When he attacked me, I fought. I kept thinking if I can get to the gun, I can stop him.”  I didn’t speak, afraid if I did she’d stop talking and she needed to tell someone.  Clutch stood to the side, stone-faced.  “He pinned me to the bed, said things,” she shook her head, her lip curled in disgust, “Told me to be a good little girl.”  Her gaze strayed to where Grant lay sprawled on the ground.  “I wasn’t a good little girl. I punched him in the nuts and ran to my mom’s room.  I shut the door behind me and locked it.”

I nodded encouragingly and her breath gusted from her.  “The gun was right there in the drawer, just like it always was,” she explained, looking up at me with a pleading expression.  “Just sitting there, waiting for me to pick it up.”  I waited, knowing she needed to finish telling her story.  “I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  To pick it up and shoot him.”  She bit her lip so hard it bled and I rubbed her arm gently.  “Mom came in as he was pounding on the door, demanding I let him in.  She got him out of the house and after she saw me,” her eyes grew unfocused, lost in relieving the moment, “She told me to grab a bag…that we were leaving.”  Her eyes closed.  “You know the rest.”

I spoke carefully, making my words very clear.  “What happened was not your fault.”

She looked up at me, regret in her eyes.  “I will always wonder if she’d still be alive, if I’d just had the courage to shoot him when I had the chance.”

I shook my head, my thumb brushing away a tear that escaped down her cheek.  “We can’t know.  He still might have come after you.  Your mom might still have chosen to run.  There’s no way of knowing the outcome.”

“Blaming yourself is the last thing your mom would have wanted you to do,” Clutch spoke up, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Leave the guilt where it belongs,” I commanded, as I tugged her toward Grant’s body.  “Right here.  With the man who was responsible for her death.”

“It’s that easy?”  She asked, staring at his lifeless body.

“No,” I acknowledged.  “But it’s a good place to start.”

She nodded slowly, crossing her arms over her stomach, and after a long minute glanced up at me.  “I’m ready to go now.”

“Okay,” I answered, studying her carefully. Her eyes were clear, her expression more at ease.  She handed me the gun, which I accepted with a warning, “Do not ever take a gun from me again.”  She nodded, her gaze contrite as she worried her lower lip where she’d bitten down.  I smoothed my finger over the puffy spot until her lips parted.  “I’m proud of you, Jailbait.”

She glanced up at me through long eyelashes.  “For killing a man?”

A choked snort escaped Clutch as I shook my head, saying, “No, Jailbait.  For facing him and your own fear.  That takes courage.”

“You were next to me,” she murmured in explanation, her gaze dropping from mine as she started toward the road. I stood there staring after her as pressure built in my chest.

“Breathe, Hot Shot,” Clutch slammed his fist into my back and I sucked in a lungful of oxygen.  “Let’s get my bike and get out of here.”  I nodded, my gaze still on Jailbait as I followed him.