There was solace in knowing Mr. Adamson was out of the picture for the moment.  I would have to deal with Walter at some point, but time was finally on our side.  The Devil Knights MC would make sure nobody came looking for him and they had a lot more power in Indian Springs than Walter did.  Even if he found out where Monica’s father was, he wouldn’t be able to send anyone there to get him that he wanted to see alive again. 

I woke up to find Monica no longer in my arms.  The glass that had been shattered and covering the floor was cleaned up.  I could smell something cooking and rubbed my eyes as I sat up.  The black sedan was still parked outside, so I felt like the plan was a success.  I put my jeans back on and walked into the kitchen where I found Monica standing over the stove. 

I stared at her for a moment, watching just watching her cook.  It was a strange feeling knowing that the woman I was staring at was my wife and while I originally expected that to end as soon as she got out the front door of the hotel room, I wasn’t sure I could ever let her go.  The wedding vows were originally meant to keep her from marrying my brother, but they were starting to have actual meaning.

“What’s for dinner?”  I opened the fridge and got a beer.

“Shit, you startled me.  I didn’t hear you get up.”  She turned to me and smiled after she nearly jumped out of her skin.  “I hope you like Hamburger Helper.  That is about the extent of my cooking abilities.”

“You’re definitely getting a cookbook for Christmas.”  I took a seat at the table and watched her as she continued cooking.

“I guess that means you’re sticking around until Christmas instead of just coming back tomorrow?”  She turned off the stove and carefully carried the skillet over to the table.

“Well I can’t really go anywhere—your father stole my motorcycle.”  I chuckled and sipped my beer.

“That’s true.”  She put two plates down and then took a seat next to me.  “You’re my prisoner right now.”

“Throw away the key, warden.”  I grinned at her and started scooping food onto my plate.

“I guess if we’re going to be married, we should at least know something about each other...”  She looked at me and stuffed a forkful of food between her lips.

“What do you want to know?  Surely my brother told you all the awful things about me since his life isn’t very interesting to talk about.”  I sipped my beer and loaded my fork up with Hamburger Helper.

“Not much.  Believe it or not, he had other things to talk about—like Jesus.”  She rolled her eyes.

“His favorite subject.”  I shook my head back and forth.

“How did you end up being owed a favor by The Devil Knights?  Surely that’s an interesting story.”  She looked over at me and drowned her latest bite in water before swallowing.

“Probably not as interesting as you think.”  I shrugged.  “My father passed away when Dane and I were kids.  Dane doesn’t really remember him much, but after he was gone, I became the man of the house before I was even a teenager.  My father left a little money behind, but we went through it quick.  My mother worked when she could, but I felt like I needed to help out.  The Devil Knights were trying to expand into Las Vegas at the time, and their main source of revenue was drugs.  One of my friends was already selling for them, and after he went to high school, he knew I needed some cash, so he hooked me up with them.  Middle school kids love drugs—weed at least.”

“You were selling drugs in middle school?”  Monica’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

“That’s how it started.”  I chuckled and shook my head.  “I didn’t make much money because I didn’t know any better.  They gave me a small percentage of what I earned, which was usually enough to pay the rent.  They kind of adopted me and they became my second family for a while.”

“What happened?  I don’t remember them ever being in Las Vegas.”  Monica sipped her water again.

“Too much competition.  They couldn’t recruit fast enough to grow their Las Vegas chapter.  They ended up abandoning it and taking their operations back to Indian Springs.  The offer to join them was on the table if I wanted to move there, and I seriously considered it a few times, but Dane was already making a name for himself playing football in high school and the college recruiters were sending more money than I could ever earn just to keep us interested.  I decided to keep selling drugs and started making my own money until I ran into Walter Grant.”  I shook my head and sighed.  “He was much different back then.  I guess he liked me—I don’t know.  He got me out of the drug trade and helped me earn some legit money—as legit as a loan shark can be.”

“Clearly he’s not that man anymore.”  She shook her head angrily and dug her fork into the Hamburger Helper again.

“Clearly not.”  I sighed.

***

I KNEW I WAS GOING to have to let Walter’s guy know Mr. Adamson was gone at some point.  I couldn’t stay holed up in her house forever.  I made a call to the MC and confirmed he was safe.  The next morning, I poured a cup of coffee and walked outside, waving at the man in the car.  He looked at me in shock, did a double take, and then started calling someone on his cell phone.  A few minutes later, he was speeding down the street.  It certainly didn’t take him long to put the pieces together. 

I sent Monica to pick up some groceries and told her not to come back until I called her.  She was worried, but the last thing I wanted was for her to be there when Ray Stone showed up.  There was no doubt in my mind that he would be the next face I saw.  I didn’t need to be psychic to expect his visit.  His black SUV came rolling down the street about an hour after Monica left and I stood up as he came to a stop.

“Where’s Mr. Adamson?”  He slammed the door and started walking towards me.

“He’s gone.”  I shrugged.  “Who knows, he could be in Mexico by now.”

“I see.”  Ray glared at me and narrowed his eyes.  “I guess you think this means the debt is just forgotten?”

“It isn’t my debt.  My wife sure as hell didn’t have anything to do with it.  It isn’t my fault your guy let him ride off on my motorcycle—he stole it, you know?”  I smirked and folded my arms across my chest.

“Yeah, I bet.”  Ray’s eyes narrowed even more.

“Look, you know who my brother is, right?  Dane Faulkner—he’s about to be a first round draft pick in the NFL.  I’m sure your boss told you all about him if he told you about me.” I kept my eyes locked on Ray, not looking away as he tried to stare me down.

“Yeah, he mentioned it.”  Ray nodded.

“That’s a twenty-five million dollar contract, Ray.  Do you think fifty-grand is going to be shit for him?  I bet he’ll write me a check for double that if I just go over and ask nicely.”  I exhaled sharply. “The way I see it—Walter can let this debt ride a little longer than a week and get paid, or he won’t ever see Mr. Adamson again.”

“Mr. Grant also mentioned that your wife—Monica?  She was engaged to him until a few days ago.  Apparently that is a bigger story than the draft.”  Ray tilted his head.  “If my brother did that to me, he wouldn’t be getting shit from me.”

“You let me worry about my family.”  I motioned to the curb.  “You get back in your SUV and go talk to Walter.  I think he’ll be more interested in getting his fifty large than having you stand on the lawn here trying to look intimidating.”

“The next time I see you—if you’re not putting money in my hand,” he sneered at me, “I’m going to shut your fucking mouth up and carve that tattoo off your neck.”

“That might be more difficult than you think.”  I took a step towards him and growled angrily.

“See you soon, Mr. Faulkner.”  Ray buttoned his suit jacket and turned back towards his SUV.

The problem was quelled, but it wasn’t solved.  I still had to figure out how in the hell I was going to convince my brother to give me fifty thousand dollars when he probably didn’t even want to see me. 

The next few days were filled with more happiness than I had ever known.  Monica was able to check in on her father almost every day and he seemed to be having a ball in Indian Springs.  The MC had put him up in a safe house and had a steady supply of girls stopping by for visits.  He told me that—thankfully he didn’t share that news with her. 

We had a couple of weeks until the draft, and I still needed to make some money, so I did a few odd jobs when I could.  There were several clubs that liked having me around as a bouncer during the weeknights since I worked cheap.  During the daytime, I could hit up some of my old contacts to run deliveries if they were local.  After putting in a few days and nights, I stopped by my apartment, made sure the rent was paid for another month, and picked up a few personal items.  I was already anxious to see Monica again.

***

“WELCOME HOME—OH YOU brought your toothbrush?  Things must be getting serious.”  Monica wrapped her arms around me as soon as I stepped into the house.

“I even brought a razor.”  I smiled and pulled her closer.

“You shave?”  She raised her eyebrows and ran her hand through my beard.  “Please don’t.”

“Just a trim.”  I laughed and kissed her before walking into the living room where I saw a stack of electronics sitting on the table.  “What is all this stuff?”

“You’re not the only one that can earn money.”  She grabbed me from behind.  “I got you something.”

“Wait, did you steal this stuff?”  I scanned the stack of electronics with my eyes, estimating that there was at least a thousand dollars in front of me.

“Yep.  How else do you think I kept my father’s weekly payment up?  I don’t have a job.”  She grabbed a box off the top of the pile.  “I got you a new cell phone.”

“Monica...”  I shook my head and sighed.  “You can’t do that.  If you got caught with all this stuff, you would be looking at prison time.”

“What are you doing during the day?  You don’t think I know that deliveries is code for drugs?”  She put the cell phone box in my hand.

“I’m not delivering drugs, I’m delivering furniture.”  I raised my eyebrows.  “You think I come home dog tired because I’m carrying ounces across town?”

“Oh.”  She shrugged.  “No matter, it’s all good now.  I’ll sell this stuff tomorrow.  I have a friend at a pawn shop that doesn’t ask any questions.”

“Promise me you’re not going to do this again—please.”  I put the cell phone on the table beside us.  “We’ve got a good thing here.  I don’t want to lose you.”

“Chill.  I’ve been doing this since I was a kid.  I know how to avoid getting caught.”  She brushed off my concern with a wave of her hand.

“I’m serious.”  I reached out and took her by the arm.  “It isn’t worth it.”

“You may be my husband—technically.”  She rolled her eyes.  “But you’re not my boss.”

“Oh is that so?  Let’s see about that.”  I pulled her to the couch and took a seat, snapping her across my knee in an instant.

“Hey!  What’re you doing?”  She squirmed in my grasp as I pulled her into position with her ass in the air.

“Showing you who’s boss.”  I brought my hand down hard on her pajama pants.

“Ow!  Hey!  Let me go!”  She squirmed harder, but I kept her locked in place.

“Tell me you’re not going to steal again.”  I slapped her ass three times with fairly hard smacks.

“No!  Let me go!”  She pulled against me and tried to stand.

“Fine, then these are coming down.”  I pushed my hand into the waistband of her pajamas and yanked them down to her knees.