Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
THREE HOURS OF sleep wasn’t conducive to a productive and enjoyable day, but the previous night’s events hadn’t given Talia much choice. When the detectives finally verified Pulse’s alibi and released him, she’d only had a handful of hours until the sun rose and not much more until the next workday began.
She’d slathered on more makeup than usual to hide the under-eye circles and trick people into thinking she felt refreshed and ready to tackle the day.
Extra makeup and a vat of coffee, too.
After chugging half a pot, she arrived at the courthouse on time and then hit the office for a quick meeting with her paralegals. Ten minutes into the meeting, her assistant disappeared for a few moments, only to reappear with an extra-large coffee from the shop in their lobby. So much for fooling everyone.
It was only noon, but Talia felt as fatigued as if she’d worked a full day. And now she had to attend a grand opening luncheon for the Hell’s Handlers’ women’s shelter. Yesterday, she’d been excited for this event. Today, she wished to grab a nap first.
She admired the landscaping as she strode up the light stone walkway toward the main entrance. Beautiful flowers native to Florida adorned the path in a variety of colors. They provided a welcoming, safe, and comfortable atmosphere that was so important when creating a space for women who’d been traumatized. The building itself was modern and gorgeous, with fresh tan siding. A tall, sandy-colored door beckoned to her. It opened before she reached the stoop, and a beautiful blue-eyed blonde wearing a sundress that Talia swore she had seen on an episode of Real Housewives Miami met her.
“Hello, welcome,” the woman said with an open and inviting smile. “I’m Liv.”
“Talia Davenport,” she said as she extended her hand. “I’m the club’s new attorney.”
That news transformed Liv’s face from curious to ecstatic. “Forget the handshake. You’re getting a hug.” She leaned in and gave Talia a quick squeeze. “Thanks for helping Pulse last night. These guys will keep you busy, especially my man, unfortunately.”
Laughing, Talia returned the hug with one arm. “Why does that sound like a mild threat?”
“Come on in, let me give you a tour,” Liv said as she chuckled. “And I promise it’s not a threat. I’m with Spec, the club’s enforcer, so occasionally, he needs some… legal advice.”
“Ah, got it.” The enforcer. “The club’s bad boy.” The one most likely to land himself in trouble. She and Spec would probably get to know each other well.
“Something like that,” Liv said, but her blissful smile let Talia know he wasn’t all bad. A woman didn’t beam like that unless her man was taking good care of her in all ways.
Talia stepped into the foyer and sucked in a breath. An immediate sense of calm and comfort stole over her. “Oh, wow, Liv, this is impressive.” She took her time moving around, her hand pressed to her chest as she absorbed the grays and pale blue decor. Ahead, a large common room with a plush light gray couch and a soft blue ombre rug begged her to kick up her feet and relax. The room also had a large-screen television and a modern fireplace built into the wall.
“Thank you, although I can’t take an ounce of credit for the design choices. That’s all Brenna. I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.”
“I’ve done quite a bit of pro-bono work with women’s shelters in the past, and this place gives the feeling of home and safety more than any I’ve seen, and I’ve barely stepped inside.”
Liz blinked quickly as though trying to control her emotions. “Thank you. That… that means the world to me. This project means the world to me. C’mon, let me show you the rest.”
They spent the next twenty minutes touring the immaculate building. Each bedroom had been lovingly crafted with the goal of security and serenity. They each had a double bed with a simple light wooden bedframe and matching dresser and nightstand. The walls had a few art prints and photos, but Liv explained they wanted to leave wall space for their clients to have the ability to decorate some during their stay. The kitchen was as stylish and beautiful as the rest of the house with stainless appliances and white cabinets that reached the tall ceilings. The place was a masterpiece that would be the perfect landing spot for women needing a haven.
“Liv, thank you so much for showing me around,” she said after they had toured each room. “I’ve really enjoyed this. You’ve done something wonderful here.”
“Thank you,” Liv said, nearly giddy with happiness. “Can I have your number? I know we all want to set up a meeting with you to discuss how everything will work with you providing legal counsel for our women.”
“Yes, absolutely.” She grabbed a business card from her purse and handed it over. “You’re welcome to call my cell at any time, but if you want to schedule something, you’ll have better luck going through my assistant. She pretty much runs my life.”
“Hmm, maybe I need one of those.”
“I highly recommend it,” Talia said, laughing. They hugged, and then Liv directed her to the backyard, where lunch was being served and the reception would take place.
She wandered outside, immediately heating after being inside the cool of the shelter. The backyard was as lovely as the rest of the space, with flowers, a large deck, and a round firepit. An eight-foot fence surrounded the property with multiple security cameras, but she didn’t feel closed-in. Instead, it felt cozy and secure like a secret garden inside a bubble of safety. Every detail seemed to have been thought of. It was apparent the Handlers’ women took great pride in what they’d created.
A table by the door held flutes of champagne, so Talia grabbed one and then went to explore and mingle.
When she’d first heard the shelter would be on the same grounds as the MC’s clubhouse, she’d been concerned. Many of the women they’d be serving had experienced violence and fear at the hands of men. Erecting a shelter so close to such big, gruff men sounded risky. But seeing the care they took to ensure a private entrance and plenty of distance from the clubhouse, she changed her mind. Plus, the few club members she’d met seemed as devoted to protecting the shelter as the women who’d created it. Maybe this was the best place for a woman to regain strength, courage, and confidence.
“Talia, glad you could make it.” Curly’s voice had her turning to find the MC president standing beside a pretty woman in a simple floral maxi dress.
“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Talia said, shifting her champagne from her right to left hand so she could shake Curly’s hand.
“Wanted to introduce you to Brooke, the brains and beauty behind this entire operation.”
The woman in question elbowed her ol’ man as she extended her other hand to Talia. “He makes it sound like a one-woman operation when I’ve had more help than you can imagine. This has been an all-hands-on-deck venture. A complete group effort.” A handsome German Shepard trotted over as she spoke and plopped down at her heels, panting beneath the warm Florida sun.
“Who is this?” Talia asked.
“That’s the love of my life, Ray.”
Curly rolled his eyes as both women chuckled.
“Sorry, babe.” Brooke patted Curly’s arm.
“Don’t worry, I’ve always known I’m second in your heart.”
They laughed, including Talia. She always enjoyed being around couples who were confident and secure enough to tease each other.
“He’s a beautiful dog. May I pet him?”
“Only if you want him slobbering after you the whole time you’re here.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” Grinning, Talia crouched down, careful to keep from flashing the entire party. She held her hand out, and Ray immediately nudged his large head against it. “Oh, you’re a sweet boy, aren’t you? I’ve always wanted one, but I worry I work too much to provide the care and attention a dog would need.”
Heat prickled the back of her neck, and it had nothing to do with the hot sun blazing down on her. She lifted her gaze, still crouched beside the friendly dog, and met the troubled eyes of the man who’d occupied her mind since the previous night.
She nodded once in greeting as she rose back to her full height. Pulse stood about twenty-five feet away, nursing a beer under a large canopy tent. He sported the same dark circles she’d seen in her mirror that morning, only without the added benefit of concealer. Expression pinched, he saluted her with his beer bottle.
“Talia, it was so nice to meet you finally,” Brooke said as she placed a hand on Talia’s upper arm and pulled her attention away from Pulse. “The caterers are summoning me, so I gotta run, but we’ll make sure to invite you to our next girls’ night. Oh, and I love your dress.”
“Oh, that’s… thank you.” Talia glanced down at her simple black bodycon dress. It was her favorite, hugging her in all the right ways, but it wasn’t anything glamorous. She’d left her blazer in her car when she’d arrived. It was way too hot to stand outside in a black blazer, and she didn’t want to come across as stiff and stuffy. “Nice to meet you too.”
Curly’s eyes smoldered as he accepted a kiss from his ol’ lady. He whispered something in her ear that had Brooke’s gaze heating and her cheeks flushing.
And then she was off to deal with whatever the caterers needed from her.
“There’s no escaping ‘em once the ol’ ladies get their hooks in you. Girls’ night is just the beginning. They tend to adopt people, so expect them to be blowing up your phone from now on.”
She highly doubted it. People tended to say things like that without actually meaning them. Smiling, Talia turned her attention to Curly, watching his ol’ lady with a possessive stare. “She seems fantastic.”
Curly kept his gaze on Brooke as she walked away, then turned his sharp attention back to Talia. “This might not be the best time, but I don’t know when I’ll catch you again, and I don’t want to miss the chance to thank you for being so available and quick to jump in last night. I want to say that won’t happen again, but…” He shrugged.
“Nature of the beast. No worries. I’m very used to the unpredictable nature of my job. It’s part of what keeps it exciting.” She took a second to study the man she’d met in person a few times but spent a formidable portion of her youth reading about in the papers and watching splashed across the news. Curly’s former club made headlines frequently for their criminal antics. He’d been part of a different club back then, one that Talia wouldn’t have agreed to represent. Drugs, women, weapons, his club had run it all and with very little respect or care for anyone but themselves.
Yet none of that justified the way Curly had been taken down. The thirteen years he’d spent in prison for a crime he didn’t commit due to a corrupt system and a few supremely evil players.
Guilt compressed her chest from all sides like a steel vise. Over the years, she’d grown accustomed to the heavy sensation, but since meeting Curly in person, the shame felt fresh and intense again.
“Is the shit with Pulse put to bed, or will there be more from the cops?” Curly asked.
Her gaze drifted to Pulse again, now deep in conversation with the man claimed by Liv. The enforcer patch on his cut clued her into his identity. He was a formidable man, large and with a cunning gaze she felt could turn lethal in a flash.
Though Pulse had his back to her now, his stiff stance gave off the impression of discomfort. Were he and Spec also discussing last night’s arrest?
Talia shook her head as a heavy sigh slipped out. Unfortunately, she couldn’t give Curly the answer he wanted. “I’m not sure to be honest. Something was off about the whole ordeal.”
Curly tensed. “How so?”
She gave him her full attention, tuning out the rest of the club and their guests drinking, laughing, and having fun. It wasn’t her scene anyway. No one would accuse the workaholic attorney of being a party animal. “I’m not in any way trying to victim blame here. There are legitimate hospital records, and she was severely beaten, which is horrifying, and someone needs to have their ass sent to jail for a very long time over it.”
“But it couldn’t have been my guy. I know that without seeing any evidence. Pulse isn’t that man.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It couldn’t have been Pulse, and verifying his alibi was easy. But the detectives didn’t do an ounce of detecting. They went straight for the arrest. Why? The report claims the victim was drifting in and out of consciousness when she named him. Why wasn’t he questioned as a suspect instead of cuffed and dragged to the station? Why didn’t they wait to talk to her again when she was more lucid?”
Curly rubbed a thumb over his bearded chin. “Do you think the cops are starting a campaign against my club? Was this the first of many bullshit arrests we can expect?”
Talia frowned. Her brain whirled as she scanned everything that had happened since she stepped foot in the police station last night. After the interrogation, she’d wanted more time to speak with Pulse alone, but he’d been in a shitty headspace and stormed out without so much as a wave goodbye.
Understandable but frustrating.
“I don’t know. Could be, but it felt personal.”
Folding his arms across his broad chest, Curly frowned. “Against Pulse, you mean? As opposed to the entire club?”
“Yes, though it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why. Do—” She winced and shook her head. “Never mind.”
“No. Go ahead. I know you’re on our side, so ask what you need to help my men. I’m not stupid enough to keep secrets from you. You’ll have access to whatever information you need.”
The sincerity in his tone had her smiling. “Well, thank you. It’s not often clients are so easy to work with.”
“Well…” He shrugged and gazed at Brooke once again. “I have a lot more to lose now than I did before. Don’t think I’d survive being ripped away from her. My guys are a family more than a club. So I’m not fucking around when it comes to our legal protection and counsel.”
Shit .
He might as well have slipped a knife between her ribs.
“Yes,” she whispered, unable to strengthen her voice. “Obviously, I’m aware of what happened to you in the past. And I promise you here and now that I will do everything in my power to keep you and your family safe.”
“I know you will. You have an incredible track record of going to the ends of the earth for your clients. It’s why I chose you. It’s why I trust you with my life and my family’s lives.”
His solemn gaze bore into hers, twisting the knife beneath her ribs.
She swallowed a painful lump as she nodded. “I won’t let you down.”
If he had even an inkling of who her father was and how he’d destroyed thirteen years of Curly’s life, he’d not only take those words back and kick her ass off his property, but he’d also probably end her life.
And make sure no one ever found her body.