Dutch (BLP Motorcycle Clubs #4)

13. Makari

I walked around my shop preparing for my customers. I checked my watch. I still had an hour before my client was due to arrive. Shit, this was my opportunity to get to the storage unit.

I hadn't had the guts to go there in years but after the video…

"Fuck it." I grabbed my bag and peered out the window, looking for any sign of Jahlil's goons or Dutch's crew, for that matter. I blew out air, steeling myself.

I slipped out the door, leaving the shop dark. As I headed through the morning crowd, the street was busy. My mind raced as I thought about Dutch finding out I had left the shop.

I'm a grown-ass woman. Stop letting that man get in your head.

I entered the coffee shop on the corner and ordered a latte while I waited for the ride-share car I had ordered. As I waited for my drink, I thought about Malakai, how he always joked about me drinking my bougie coffee, and how he laughed. I shook my head when the images from the video hit me.

"Makari," the barista called.

I grabbed the cup with my name on it and headed for the door. I tapped the screen on my phone and checked the car icon as it approached the shop.

"Come on," I mumbled, wanting them to drive faster.

A black sedan finally pulled up, and I double-checked the license plate before hopping inside.

"Makari?" the driver asked.

"Yeah," I confirmed.

As we pulled away, I was relieved. I did it without Dutch breathing down my back.

I sipped my coffee as we headed to the storage place.

"Are you all right back there?" the driver asked.

"I'm good, just missing my brother."

"Oh, is he okay?"

A bitter laugh escaped me. "He's dead, but I'm pretty sure I'm being lied to about how it happened."

I could see the driver's eyebrows arch in the rearview mirror. "My bad, that's heavy."

"Yeah, but I'm going to figure out the truth if it kills me."

The driver slowed to a stop in front of the storage place.

"Is this the place?" the driver asked.

"Yeah, I just need to grab something. Can you wait?"

He nodded, and I hopped out, leaving my coffee in the car. As I approached unit thirty-two, I dug for my keys, which were trembling in my hands as I stuck them inside the padlock.

I rolled the door open, and suddenly, I felt like I'd been sucker punched, but I didn't have time to linger. I moved a box, and I saw his old leather jacket. I picked it up and caught a lingering hint of his cologne.

"Damn, Malakai, what happened to you?"

I noticed his guitar case in the corner, and my throat tightened as I remembered his crooked grin when he played. I put the jacket down and dug through a box where I saw his graduation picture. He had his arm around my shoulder. We looked so young and full of promise.

I looked at my watch. The time was ticking, and I couldn't afford to get caught up. I rifled through another box, and all I saw were some CDs and books, but then I spotted a leather thing that looked like a receipt book.

"Hello, I bet this is what Jahlil was asking about?" I muttered as I pulled out the ledger book. My heart pounded, this had to be the key to whatever shit I was mixed up with.

I flipped through a few pages, and the words meant nothing to me at that moment, but I knew it was important.

I glanced at my watch… time to get back. I shoved the ledger into my bag.

"I pray you left me some breadcrumbs, Mal."

I exited the storage unit, happy to see my driver waiting for me. I locked the door and hurried to his car. As I got inside the car, I peered at the building, my chest tight with emotion. Malakai's presence was heavy in that storage unit, kicking up emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

"I'm headed to the 'Ink Spot.' You have the address but pull up to the back. I'm going in the back door," I instructed.

"I know where it is. Are you an artist there?"

"Yeah," I answered, suddenly not in the mood to talk. I wondered what was in the ledger, but I didn't want to pull it out until I was alone.

I was happy I was going to ink a design today. I needed a release. As we neared the shop, I pointed out the alley for him to enter in case someone was watching.

"Hey, I'm in need of a tat, so I may check you out," the driver said.

"I would love that. Hey, have a good day," I told him.

"You too."

I stepped out into the alleyway and slid inside, locking the door. I put my bag down and got busy turning on the lights and unlocking the front door for my client. I was anxious to finish a sleeve I'd been working on for months.

I was wiping down my station when the bell on the door jingled.

"Hey, Makari."

"Hey, come on in, girl." I smiled and gestured to my chair after my client Rita had removed her jacket. "Are you ready for this badass tattoo?" I joked.

"Hell yeah," she stated, propping her arm up on the side table.

I wiped her arm down with an alcohol wipe and turned on the machine, allowing the noise to drown out my thoughts, at least for a little while.

"What's been up with you? I see you're still dating that overgrown guard dog?"

I kept my hand steady. "I've just been focused on the shop and a few personal matters. Wait, what?"

"The guy you dated was outside when I came in," she said. "Yeah, I noticed a few bikers outside your shop. I thought maybe you two were still dat?—"

My eyebrows shot up. I hoped like hell Jahlil wasn't here again to piss me off. "No," I cut her off. I put the tattoo gun down and stood up to look out the window. I was relieved to see it wasn't Jahlil, but why was Dutch back already? "It's complicated. We're not dating."

Rita laughed. "Girl, it's always complicated, but it's like that when you date those ex-cops."

"Girl, what the fuck are you talking about?" I inquired as my stomach did a weird flip. "Ex-cop? No, he was a code enforcement officer," I corrected her.

"No, I dated his friend back in the day and distinctly remember the man with the scar over his left eye. He was a cop. Word is he left the force after some shady shit happened. Something had gone wrong, and his partner was killed."

Suddenly, Dutch's attitude and overprotectiveness made sense. Except why had he lied about his profession when we dated?

"I can't believe you didn't know he'd been a cop, but I heard they sometimes don't disclose that information because it can be risky if they're on a case," Rita insisted.

I let out a shaky breath. I thought I knew everything about Dutch. Who the hell was I dealing with?