TWENTY-SEVEN
“So, you want to just sit on it.” The look on Country’s face said he was flummoxed. The information was solid, far as Repo could tell, but Blake wanted to sit around pondering instead of acting. That’s what was upsetting Country. Repo, on the other hand, understood where Blake was coming from.
“That’s not what I said,” Blake grunted while taking another drink of his beer.
They were sitting outside on his brand-new deck, one all the Spartan brothers had had a hand in building since the utter destruction of his property just a few short months ago. Country had done the railings, and Repo had done the deck, which was magnificent, if he did say so himself.
“Then what are you saying exactly? Because from where I’m sitting, you want us to stick our thumbs up our asses and wait for the firestorm to come to us.”
Repo snorted and took a drink of his beer. If Country kept talking to Blake like that, shit was going to go down.
“All I’m saying is I want to take some time to digest and plan. I don’t want to jump headlong into anything. That’s how mistakes are made.”
Country nodded. “I can agree with that.”
So could Repo. It was just smart business.
Blake’s hard gaze held Country’s. “But you don’t like it.”
“No, but it’s not my decision to make.”
That was too right. There was a reason Blake was the president. He was the leader and he knew what was best for the future of the club. They’d all voted him in, and they’d follow his lead one-hundred percent. Didn’t mean he always agreed one-hundred-percent, but that was moot.
“Swear you’re going to keep your shit together. Tell me I can trust you not to run off half-cocked.” Blake’s tone was as severe as Repo had ever heard it, especially being that it was directed at their friend. Blake was ready to lay down the law…but it turned out he didn’t have to.
“I’m not going to do anything unless you tell me to.” Country reached into the cooler on the deck between them and pulled out another beer. Cracking it open, he said, “What I won’t promise is to sit on my hands while I wait. I’m going to keep digging.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less. Just don’t act unless you’ve talked to me first.”
“You got it, boss,” Country said with a smirk.
Blake shook his head at his cheeky reply. “So…how are things with Talia going?”
Country looked out across the rolling landscape. “Fine. Why do you ask?”
Repo was wondering the same thing. It wasn’t like Blake to get into girl talk. None of the brothers did. That’s why they worked so well together. They didn’t need to have the deep talks and heart-to-hearts to understand each other.
“Because you showed up on my doorstep after midnight and have been sucking back my beer for the last”—he glanced at his watch—“almost six hours. Don’t take this the wrong way, but the only time I normally watch a sunrise is with my wife. Naked.”
Wife. Man, Repo still hadn’t gotten used to that one. But seeing Blake happy was a good thing. Made his heart warm and shit.
“How’s the married life treating you?” Country asked, curiosity in his voice.
“Not that you’re researching anything for yourself or anything,” Repo told him with a smirk.
They were all aware that Country didn’t really see himself as the marrying type. Although, that’s what he’d always said about being in a committed relationship, and look at him now, all monogamous.
It was a wonder hell hadn’t frozen over.
“It’s the best, man,” Blake said sincerely. He was wearing a stupid little grin too, which, come on, was just so damn adorable.
Country burst out laughing. “Dude, you are straight pussy whipped.”
“The fuck I am!” Blake said with laughter rolling through his voice.
“Next, you’ll be saying you like doing laundry and washing the dishes,” Country teased.
“I do!”
Now they were all laughing, big, booming laughter that shattered the early morning quiet.
Country wiped tears from the corner of his eyes. “Man, you got it bad. You wouldn’t catch me within twenty feet of a kitchen sink unless it was to put my dish in it.”
“Tell me you wouldn’t jump to put on a pair of rubber gloves if Talia asked you to,” Blake challenged.
“Depends on what she wants me to use them for.” He waggled his brows suggestively.
“No,” Repo said adamantly. “Just no. My virgin ears don’t need to hear that shit.”
“What did I say?” Country said, his voice an octave too high. Laughter boomed between them again like a thunder clap.
Damn, it was good hanging with his boys. Sometimes, Repo forgot what it was like to just let loose and laugh. But nothing beat being alone with his woman, and he had plenty of plans for her when he got home later.
***
As they sobered and the silence expanded between them once again, Country reflected on the previous night. He hadn’t fought with Talia since before they’d become a “thing.” He’d felt justified at the time, knowing that getting this shit sorted ASAP was the best thing for everyone, but as he reflected, he found himself second-guessing himself.
Fighting with her left a sour taste in his mouth. A part of him wanted to ride home and apologize for talking to her the way he had and for leaving the way he did.
He didn’t want her sitting there thinking bad things. His thoughts wandered to her locked away in their bedroom, and he found himself wondering if she’d cried. The very idea shook him. He never wanted to be the cause of her shedding a single tear—and yet he may have done just that.
Shit. He was an asshole. He never should have left. He should have gone back to that bedroom and made things right first, made her understand where he was coming from. He should have made more of an effort to hear her side of it too.
He just hadn’t been ready at the time.
Now that he was sitting here, calm as the morning sky, he could see that she had a point. This whole thing with the shooting and what they’d found in those papers was consuming him. He barely ate, barely slept anymore. He was always thinking ten steps ahead, plotting and planning. Talia said she couldn’t remember the last time they’d really spent time together. She was right. They were always together, but he was never truly there.
That needed to change, didn’t it? He needed to make more of an effort, because at the end of the day, she was going to be in his life. She was his partner. If his momma had taught him anything, it was that you took care of your relationships, nurtured them…or you’d lose them.
He was not willing to lose Talia. And he knew the perfect way to make it up to her. His first stop would be to the clubhouse to pick up something specific that would—hopefully—put a smile back on her face.
“I think I’m going to head home,” he announced as he stood.
Blake followed. “I thought you would.”
Stretching his arms over his head, Country offered him a knowing smile. “Oh yeah, and why do you say that?”
“Because you were doing some deep thinking for a minute there, and the only time a man does that is when he’s thinking of his woman.”
Dropping his arms to his sides, Country nodded. “Yeah, we have some stuff to sort.”
“Then go sort it.”
“That’s what I just said I was going to do.”
Repo chuckled. “Then why are you still standing here?
Blake seconded that. “Yeah, get the fuck off my property and handle your business.”
Country grinned. “If you weren’t the president, I’d tell you what an asshole you are. You too,” he said, pointing at Repo.
Repo grinned back. “Good thing you don’t have the balls to say that to my face then, huh?”
Lifting his hand, Country descended the steps. “Thanks for the beers, man. And tell Gabby and Little Man I said hi. Same to Red. We miss her around the bar.”
Repo nodded.
Blake said, “Will do. And hey, Ash has been asking when you’re going to take him out for ice cream again.”
Climbing onto his bike, Country called back, “Give me a couple days and I’ll be back to take him out.” He loved hanging out with Ash. He was a cool kid, a kind of nephew to him, and as such, he had a hard time telling him no. Which meant he spoiled him rotten.
Hey, what were cool uncles for?
“All right, man.”
“We’ll talk later?” Country asked, indicating the papers he’d left on the fold-out plastic table with a tip of his head. Even though Blake wasn’t likely to read through them again, what with his dyslexia making it more difficult than usual, he thought it best to leave them with the man in charge.
“Absolutely.”
Saluting his friends, Country fired up the bike and rolled it back onto the stone drive until he was facing the main road some distance ahead. As soon as he hit asphalt, he got some speed going and his mind shifted gears, and it was all he could do not to race home.
***
Frank was sweating. And it wasn’t the heat that was getting to him. The pressure was building. He hadn’t truly been out of that cramped, garbage dump apartment alone in too long. It was messing with his head.
And so was the thought that, at any second, those Mexican thugs would find him and gun him down just like they had tried to do with that Spartan VP.
He hadn’t stopped kicking himself since that meeting with the queen of the damned herself, Luciana Cruiz. The things people did to survive…
But he was getting out. Or attempting to.
He just prayed that Talia would help him. Without her, he was as good as dead.
That’s why he’d gone to that Bambi woman. She was in tight with the Spartans, last time he’d checked. She’d known that one with the Southern accent intimately, and since she was a bunny, she could get closer than him. The way he figured it, she could deliver his message to Talia easily enough without raising suspicion, using her curiosity and genuine dislike for the woman to pique her interest.
If Talia played along, if she met with Bambi like he hoped, then she should be there any minute.
He was sitting under the old willow tree, the dangling branches that swept the ground blocking him from view. The only people who would see him there were those who walked the trail that carved a path beneath the old limbs.
And as early in the day as it was, the risk of that was slim to none. Only a few joggers were out and about, and they appeared to be sticking to the city streets.
Better for him.
He saw her first. Talia parked at the far end of the park and started walking, her gaze already fastened on the tree he sat beneath. He couldn’t tell for sure if she saw him yet, but he felt her eyes on him all the same.
His already frazzled nerves rattled, making his body shake like a junkie.
He hadn’t had a drink, smoke, or anything of the kind in who knew how long. But he could just imagine what a relief the high would be if he had. After this, maybe he’d go pick something up. Lord knew, he’d earned a little escape from his current reality.
It didn’t take long for her to reach him, and when Talia did, Frank could read the suspicion and endless questions in her eyes.
“What are we doing here, Frank?” she said without preamble.
He fidgeted in his seat, sliding over more when she came around to sit beside him. He stared out past the tree branches while her unwavering gaze bore into him.
“What all did Bambi tell you?”
“That you are in trouble and have to talk to me. Thanks, by the way, for going through her,” she snapped.
“Not friends?” he asked, knowing full well that the women probably hated each other. It was usually a conflict of interest for an ex-girlfriend to mingle with the new one. Inside, he laughed.
She wasn’t amused.
“I have some information to pass along.”
“But…” she said, sensing there was more.
Smart woman.
“But you have to promise to help me first.”
Talia sighed impatiently. “Frank, what do you want? What have you gotten yourself into? Does this have anything to do with your sudden departure from the department?”
She fired off the questions one after another, leaving Frank to decide where to start.
“Yes, it’s why I left. I couldn’t stay there any longer and risk being found out, so I had to go.”
“Found out?”
Turning his head, he met her eyes. “I’ve been working with the cartel, feeding them information.”
“I fucking knew it!” Talia exploded out of her seat and began pacing the walkway in front of him.
Shocked by her outburst, he wasn’t sure how to respond. She’d known? No, impossible. He’d taken pains to cover his tracks. She just suspected was all; otherwise, he’d already be dead, because her boyfriend and his friends would have seen to it personally.
Taking a deep breath, Frank forged ahead. “I wanted more, like we all do, and Ricky Cruiz offered a deal I couldn’t pass up. All I had to do was give him some information, and he’d set me up for life.”
“Yeah, with a murder wrap or something. Frank, you dumbass! How could you be so stupid?” She ran her hands through her hair. “You know as well as I do these people don’t mess around.”
He cringed, feeling like he had growing up when his mother scolded him. “We all make mistakes,” he informed her.
“Not this big!” She threw her hands into the air. “I could get in trouble for even talking to you right now. I won’t lose my job over your ‘mistakes,’” she said, making air quotes with her fingers. “I won’t go to jail for you.”
“As I was saying—”
“Wait,” she cut him off. “You said you were passing along information? Who was giving it to you?”
Damn. He was hoping she would be too in shock to grasp onto that little detail. No matter. It was no skin off his hide. “I know someone on the inside.”
Her eyes narrowed, filled with anger. “Who?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“No, that is exactly the point. Look, if you want any help from me at all, Frank, you’d better stop pussyfooting around and tell me everything, or I’ll walk away right now and let you deal with this alone.”
He’d already been dealing with it alone. That’s why he was here now, asking for her help. If he couldn’t convince her, then he might as well jump off the highest building now because there would be no hope left for him. He was holding on by threads as it was.
“All right. Okay,” he relented. Waving his hand over the empty seat next to him, he said with defeat, “Could you just sit or something? You’re making me nervous.”
She shot him an impatient look. “Are you going to talk?”
“I’ll sing like a goddamn canary, okay?” he snapped.
Her eyes narrowed, but without another word, she marched over and took up the space beside him. “You have ten minutes. Get talking.”