Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Jeff
You’re right, Lu. You’re not my sister, because I wouldn’t be thinking of her the way I’m thinking of you.
The woman from all those months ago outside Gage’s building is nothing like the woman I leave in the break room. If I hadn’t had her under surveillance and had every part of her life under a microscope since that night seven months ago, if I hadn’t watched her slowly wither away, the scrubs she wore at her day job going from curve-hugging to beyond loose, I might not even know she was the same woman.
Gone is the curve of the plump ass she once had, as is the innocent shift of her womanly hips. Tallulah Jane Olsen’s life had imploded that night and she’d become a husk of her former self. Now she walks with nothing but purpose. But I still feel a tightening in my gut for her. Maybe Lu, the grumpy, take-no-shit janitor is her real personality, but I doubt it.
This woman is vulnerable, hurting, and in trouble, my gut knows it. The brat she pretends to be is just a wall, a protective one.
One I plan to get over.
And that’s where I’m going to screw everything up. Getting close to Lu is going to ruin my investigation. And not only because she’s a distraction with the things I want to do to her after our little talk, but because I need information and I’m no longer willing to do whatever it takes to get it. I shake my head, chewing the inside of my cheek.
I’ve damn well gone soft. But it isn’t charity or some misguided hero complex. I know I can’t save my sister by saving Lu. But I want to save her all the same. I hang onto the idea that rescuing Lu will thwart Satan’s Ransom, and that’s why I’m a bit obsessed, but I don’t believe it. Whatever she does for them isn’t important enough to cause them damage by taking her out of their grip.
I walk into the security office and drop into the office chair positioned in front of the wall of monitors. Leaning back, I stare at the screen that shows footage from the hall outside the break room. She’s still in there, and I know she’d already finished cleaning the room, which only means she’s probably trying to work through what just happened.
You and me both, babydoll.
How many lines did I cross tonight? Manhandling her to get the pudding cup out of her pocket? What the hell was I thinking? And using her Grizzly Daddy line? I groan, letting my head fall into my hands for a moment. It was both inappropriate and stupid the way playing her daddy had my every nerve flaring with heat. And Jesus, making her lick the pudding lid? Hot as fucking hell, but sexual harassment much?
But even knowing I could be pulled into HR and lose my contract with the factory, I can’t quite muster regret.
Yeah, I’m majorly attracted to Tallulah, but it’s not all sexual. That’s easy, sexual attraction. You can feel it for a magazine model, an actress, or even a stranger sitting on a train. What I feel for Lu is not just lust. It’s more. It’s real. It’s protective. It’s possessive.
That last thought gives me pause. I’ve never been possessive of anyone. I’ve definitely been protective, just not for someone outside of my family. I already give the kid in my niece’s karate class the side-eye and he’s only four, but damn, I don’t like the way he looks at her like he wants to share her popsicle and break her heart simultaneously.
Maybe my feelings are a result of watching Tallulah melt away and become someone else. And I don’t mean just physically. The beautiful curvy blonde who stopped to pet and baby-talk to every dog she saw on the street, the girl who laughed freely with her coworkers, and lifted toddlers up to see the new puppies waiting for adoption at the animal hospital, is gone. Slowly at first, but with every Satan’s Ransom meeting, Tallulah shrank away and Lu took over.
I like both sides of her—the sweet and the scrappy. Not a lot of people get to see someone at their best and their worst before they’ve even had a conversation with them.
Tallulah’s wilting.
At the animal hospital, she hangs back now, avoids going out for lunch with her coworkers, and looks uncomfortable with everyone. It’s almost as if she feels like she doesn’t belong or doesn’t deserve to be there. And that breaks my damn heart. I want to nurture her back to her former self, make her take care of herself again, remind her she’s worthy of better, but that’s what Satan’s Ransom does. They break you down until you only feel worthy of whatever they toss your way.
The Lu I know from the factory is more likely to growl at a puppy for piddling on her freshly washed floor than to throw her head back and laugh with abandon as it licks her face and wiggles in her arms. Lu looks like she could take down the Ransom with one hard glare. And even though I know it’s a front, meant to keep herself safe and not the real Tallulah Olsen, I’m not sure the first woman was any more real either. No one is all rainbows and sunshine all the time. And that further intrigues me.
Running my hand over my mouth and down my chin, I watch her leave the break room, a scowl on her face and purpose in her stride.
I’ve never been attracted like this to a subject under my surveillance and not just because they’re usually hairy bikers or dope dealers. There’s the rare woman. She’s usually attractive, often with a sob story, but I’ve never fallen, never even considered the possibility.
Is that what I’ve done with Tallulah, fallen for her?
I don’t get like this with women in general. Most of the time, I have a little fun, make sure she’s having a good time, and remain up front that nothing serious will come of it. Rule number one, taking down Satan’s Ransom comes first, thus my heart stays steady, my mind clear, and my focus on point. I’m fooling myself if I think I’ve done that with Lu though, because my mind is not on point.
I lean forward in my chair, scanning each monitor as soon as she disappears out of the last one. And as I find her on the last screen, pushing her cart into the lobby, my damn heart begins to trot like a colt feeling rain for the first time.
I rise then, frustrated by my own feelings, and in need of a reason to stop following Lu’s every move on the monitors.
Opening my cell, I dial my mother.
“How’s my girl?” I ask, picturing my niece tucked tightly in her bed, her wispy hair splayed on the pillow. Reece is the reason I’m here. She’s the one I’m fighting for.
“She’s good. Fast asleep finally, but she sure is a rascal.” My mom chuckles, making my own mouth curve into a smirk, because don’t I know it. “She managed to negotiate an extra story out of me, and then when I finished, she critiqued me. Little bum told me you read it better.”
I smile. “Of course I do. I do the voices. Was it the one with the dragon?” I ask, knowing it’s her favorite.
“That’s the one.”
“She loves the voice I give the dragon.” I laugh. “It’s haughty and arrogant, or so she tells me. Mom, what on earth are you teaching her?”
“Haughty and arrogant are perfectly acceptable words,” she says defensively.
“For a four-year-old?”
“You’ve met Her Majesty, Queen of Play Group, haven’t you?”
I bark out a laugh. “Fiona, the uppity know-it-all mother?”
“Yup. There may have been grumblings on our drive home and Reece may have picked up some of the descriptors I used,” she replies dismissively. “Reece picks up everything and if she’s going to repeat my words, she had better know what they mean.”
My mother huffs and I smile.
“You’re a saint, Mom. If it were me, Reece would be calling the dragon a catty asshole.”
My mother laughs, but it’s true. I wouldn’t have the patience for the things my mom does. She should be traveling the world, taking art classes in France, and doing wine tours in Italy with my dad, but instead she’s raising Reece.
We finish chatting about Reece’s day before she signs off and I’m back to watching Lu on the monitors.
My thoughts quickly turn wicked as she bends over to disinfect the reception desk, my cock lengthening as I picture pinning her firmly over that desk and whispering filthy things in her ear.
My dirty thoughts are gone the instant she bolts upright though, and when her head snaps toward the bank of floor-to- ceiling windows in the lobby, I’m ready to run. But I force myself to hold back. I know from watching Lu regularly she’s jumpy when she’s alone. Even though no one who’d met Lu the janitor would ever use the term to describe her, she looks vulnerable right now.
Lu’s straight spine bows as she clutches the desk to steady herself. And then, before I can react, I hear why.
The roar of bikes, loud and angry-sounding, has me checking the perimeter monitors. I see nothing out of place. No bikes, no Ransom. My eyes dart back to Lu. She’s hugging her arms around her chest now. The monitors aren’t the best quality but they’re better than average equipment, so I think she may even be having a panic attack.
Fuck!
I’ve seen her with them many times, but she’s always held her composure. She holds it well enough I’m still not sure if she’s working with them willingly or not. But this reaction tonight makes me anxious.
I want to go to her, soothe her, but I know the instant she sees me her walls will go up.
I pull out my phone again, this time dialing one of my guys on the outside watching the three members most on my radar.
“Hey, boss. All quiet here.” Bale doesn’t wait for my question.
“You sure? A group just ripped through here.”
“Not these three. They’re warming the booth at Pink’s.”
The Pink Kitty is a strip club on the other side of town. “Thanks, Bale. Keep on them. Might be more coming.”
Bale curses. “Yeah, I hear ‘em coming. Must be a meeting at Pink’s. I’ll see what I can pick up.”
“Keep me posted.” I sign off with Bale and turn back to Lu.
She’s cleaning again, this time with more aggression than the floor deserves, but when she looks up to wipe her brow, I can still see fear on her face.
I want to annihilate the reason for that fear, to tear down her walls, brick by brick, earning her trust, so she’ll tell me all about her dragons. And then, dammit, I want to slay each and every one—starting with Preacher, Slash, and Python.
Besides drawing out the real girl inside and nurturing her, I want to fucking dirty daddy Tallulah Jane into oblivion.
And that means I’m in trouble. My investigation is compromised, and I should give this assignment to someone else. Maybe Bale.
Bale’s as big as an ox, smart as they come and…
Fuck that. She needs me. Lu needs me . Her Grizzly Daddy.
Briskly, I walk the perimeter of the factory, my mind half on Lu, half on my investigation and that’s the best I can do for now.
“Oh hey, boss,” Johnson, another one of my guys says, dropping his cigarette, squishing the butt with his thickly soled boot. I grimace, hating the habit, but say nothing. He prefers perimeter duty because of that habit. And because he gets antsy indoors. Something about his time in the military. And it seems I prefer to work inside where I can stalk Lu via security monitor.
But right now, I need air because I haven’t been able to settle since the bikes rode through—after seeing the look on Lu’s face.
I’m on edge and that’s usually a sign something’s coming, but I don’t even know if I can trust my gut anymore. Not with how—I swallow, loathe to admit it—I feel about Lu. I fucked up. Liking her fucks everything up.
The Satan’s Ransom clubhouse is in the larger of the tri-city area. They rarely come to River’s End. Instead, they have smaller groups here, like Python, Slash, and Preacher who run the drugs and Kid, André, and Ming who run the guns. But what I heard was a lot of bikes. And while it wasn’t just the aforementioned club members working out of River’s End, there weren’t that many others.
“What are you doing out here? Something happen?” He chuffs at that because nothing ever happens here. At least not what he would call action anyway. “Ransom rode straight on through,” he adds, watching where I’m looking.
“I know,” I say. “But I’ve got a feeling.” I tap my gut. Before I can continue the thought, my cell pings. I pull it out, reading the text.
Bale: They slipped out the back. Heading north toward you No women with them.
In other words, business, not pleasure. I shove the phone in my pocket and spin on my boot. We’re north of Pink’s. “Watch for them,” I demand, and start hauling ass back so I can see every point of entry into the factory from the security office.
As I round the building, I see Lu dart across the lot. Again, my eyes scan the area. I hadn’t heard anything, but the lot is poorly lit and Satan’s Ransom isn’t the only threat for a woman in this end of town.
My walkie chirps and I snatch it. It’ll be Brad since my guys use cells.
“Alarm for six went off. Can you check it out? Over.”
“Ten-four,” I reply, my gut clenching in anticipation of trouble. But then I realize, I’m currently standing at six, the door Lu just exited. She’d been the one to set it off, so I relax and send the all-clear to Brad.
Lu always parks back here even though I’d heard the others warning her not to. As the only woman working the afternoon shift, she gets a lot of chivalry which she seems to perceive as chauvinism.
“It’s too secluded and management won’t spring for decent lighting,” they’d say. But Lu would only scoff.
“I can handle myself,” she’d reply, and after she was gone I’d hear the consensus that if the wind blew her too hard, she’d likely kick its ass. Maybe Lu didn’t make friends here, but she did make an impression.
I watch her at her car now, all shuffling feet and fidgeting. This confirms Satan’s Ransom are on their way here. It’s cold out tonight and she isn’t wearing a coat, just those damn hand-me-down coveralls. I fight the urge to go give her shit about it, but I need to stay in the shadows. Satan’s Ransom will arrive soon. It’s usually only Python meeting with Lu and that’s biweekly. I look at the date on my watch even though I already know it hasn’t yet been two weeks.
When the roar of the bikes becomes audible, Lu falls into a squat, putting her face in her hands a moment before reaching into her sock.
Whatever my gut is warning me about, it’s about to come to a head. I ready myself, putting the long-range photo lens on my cell so I can get close ups. As she pulls out what I assume is a wad of bills from her sock and rises, I click off a few shots and look at the screen. It’s cash—a small roll of hundreds.
Was Lu really a dealer? Yeah, of pot maybe, but the hard stuff? Not likely. There was a grand, maybe fifteen hundred there, max. Was she selling to the guys here? Certainly not her friends in pink scrubs at the veterinary clinic. They were all swinging ponytails and gummy bears there. And I pretty much had her tailed constantly. There’s zero evidence of her dealing or even using. So what the hell was going on?
I watch as three bikes become visible on the street and then roll into the lot right over to where Lu waits. They cut their engines and the biggest of them gets off by throwing his long leg over the front handlebars of his bike. Python. One of the enforcers for Satan’s Ransom. The other two take their time, the smaller of the three lights a cigarette before getting off his bike and the third, yanks out his knife as soon as he’s off his ride. As usual, he’s flicking the goddamn thing around like it’s some kind of fidget spinner for bikers
This isn’t a new scene, Lu doing deals with them, but it’s the one I’ve had the clearest view of. I’m in the shadows and close enough to see everything, not sure what I’ll hear though.
Lu hands over the cash, but where Python usually hands her a fast-food bag, this time Slash slams her against the side of her car. I wince, gritting my teeth, but don’t move. Squeezing my fist I imagine the satisfaction I’d get from smashing the asshole against the pavement and slamming my fist over and over into his ugly mug.
“We’re not here for the fucking money. We’re here for information.” He shoves her against the car again.
This time the bills Lu’s holding fall to the ground and Python shoulders Slash out of the way to pick them up.
Whatever Python says next is too quiet for me to hear, but I see Lu shake her head and brace herself for another blow. My legs itch to move, the muscles tense and ready, and my insides burn with rage.
Don’t fucking touch her. I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll enjoy every moment of tearing you apart.
There’s a bit more conversation but nothing I can hear until Lu says, “I don’t know!”
I strain to hear more catching a few words. “I don’t… know him! … first time …since we were kids.”
Slash curses and he smacks his hand on the window by Lu’s head. I hold still though. I need as much information as I can get. She’s safe. They want something, so they won’t hurt her. I keep repeating that in my head until Slashes hand finds Lu’s throat.
Her squeal is cut off as he squeezes and I break into a run before I can talk myself out of it. Anger boils my blood and fear slices clear through my good sense. It’s a bad situation all around, but in the short time it takes me to get to them, I’ve already decided that my cover will be fine as long as I just act like the security guard I am.
“What the hell is going on?” I bark, grabbing the biker by the back of his leather cut and yanking him off Lu. Slash spins on me, his pierced brow arching before his butterfly knife starts flicking like fan blades in my face. I pull out my taser and aim it at his chest.
I don’t carry a firearm, but tasers don’t just sting, they take you down, at least temporarily. Unfortunately, knife wounds are far more permanent.
The only thing in my favor is that I’m bigger, height and weight-wise, but if Python steps in…
“Private property, guys.” I shoot Lu a look, ignoring the fearful expression pinching her face. Her big blue eyes, watery from being choked, are harder to ignore, but I do. “Do your damn business somewhere else,” I say to the others and then to Lu, I add, “You’re still on the goddamn clock.” I purposely plaster a disgusted look on my face, but it stabs at my chest like a sword.
Lu leans closer to Preach, who’s looking at me like he has plans to end my existence, clutching his arm. Her fingers are pressed desperately against his leather jacket. In a harsh but fear-laced tone I have to strain to hear, she says, “Let him go. I’ll tell you whatever you want. I’ll get you the information.”
My brow knits. Did she just try to protect me? Me? That hits me hard in the chest like a cinder block. The tiny, underweight, five-foot-nothing Lu, in all kinds of mortal danger, just gave up something big and she did it to keep me out of harm's way.
And just like the fucking Grinch, my heart grows three sizes.
Preach raises one brow a moment then shoves Slash back. Slash is the impulsive one—and right now, I can relate. Preach is calm but a complete psychopath and the one I want more than any of the others. If hate were corporeal, it would be oozing, thick and black, from my soul to choke the life from him. I look at Python, partly to regain control, but mostly to assess him. He cracks his neck and widens his stance, readying himself. He’s the brute force. In it for the amusement of pummeling people it seems. Hurting me wouldn’t be personal, I can’t say the same.
“We’ll move our party elsewhere then,” Preach says, and with not so much as a backward glance, he sends Lu flying into Python’s arms. My fists clench, hard enough to crack the plastic casing of the taser. Python smiles as he drapes an arm across Lu’s shoulders. My brows shoot up, because it’s the lazy look of a bully that’s won his prize with little to no effort or challenge, but also because there’s something else behind that look. Surprise maybe. I’m not sure, but it’s gone as quickly as I notice it.
My heart pounds, my eyes flicking to Lu’s and the way she’s hiding her fear, but I keep my glare hard and my stance steely. “She’s got a shift to finish. Take her now, and I’ll have her fired.”
“Like we care,” Slash replies with a snort, still playing with his knife.
Lu shoves herself out of Python’s grip. “You should care,” she says through clenched teeth then checks her tone at the stilling of Slash’s knife. “He’s right, boys. Gotta finish my shift. I’m no good to you broke.” She moves forward enough that I can step between her and the bikers, and as soon as I do, she bolts for the door.
Slash shoves me hard while simultaneously flicking his blade across my cheek. Despite my size, I stumble back, the wet feeling on my face letting me know his blade is as sharp as a scalpel. I could take him down, but with the knife and the backup, the likelihood of me walking away unscathed is nil. Blood boiling or not, I need to check my protective instinct and be smart. Now isn’t the time.
“Have a good night, gentlemen,” I say and turn, heading after Lu who’s just disappearing through the door. My every nerve ending screams at the stupidity of turning my back on them. I can almost feel the stab of Slash’s knife coming from behind, but I keep my gait confident.
As I hear the rumble of their bikes, my shoulders relax, but my heart doesn’t slow. I need to know that she’s okay—I need to know what she gave up for my safety.
I enter the building, my eyes instantly darting in all directions searching for Lu. It’s crazy, the way I feel. I need to search her over for injury, I need to know she’s okay. I have to. Even if it breaks my cover, because damn it, I care.
I’ve been watching her for months and I like her—a lot. Her spunk, spirit, and vulnerability make both my heart and cock throb. And talking to her, our interaction, and what she did tonight, it only cemented that.
It’s a goddamned enigma. Here’s a woman that clearly works with Satan’s Ransom, doing who knows what, because as of yet my investigation has come up with zip on this, and yet, she won’t do more than steal my pudding. And clearly she’s starving. She’s lost at least fifty pounds since I first laid eyes on her. And here’s me, not caring about the investigation I put my whole life into, not caring if it goes up in fucking smoke, not even caring if she’s a dealer or a junkie—I’ll protect her with everything I’ve got.
It makes no sense.
She makes no sense.
How I feel makes no sense.
See, damn enigma.
Right now, as I rush through the building searching for her, I fight the urge to… To what?
There’s a myriad of urges running through me. I want to…
What?
Grab her? Shake her? Put her over my knee and spank her senseless for her recklessness?
Yes, yes, and yes!
And then what, dumbass?
Search every inch of her for injury, kiss the hell out of her, and hold her until she stops feeling afraid?
Yes, tightly, and possibly forever after that.
I spot her in the corner, curled into a tiny, Lu-sized ball, her forehead resting against her knees, her janitor cart across from her, effectively blocking her on three sides. Sliding onto the linoleum, my knees polishing the floor, I reach for her but at first touch she jumps, recoiling deeper into her self-made cave.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” she barks.
I lower my ass onto my heels, but don’t rise. Lu’s head whips up to face me.
“I don’t care if you get me fired,” she shoots, and it sounds petulant. “Go on! Go find your buddy, Brad.”
Again I don’t reply. Without the threat I have no leverage, but I’m sure as hell not leaving her alone. And after a few minutes of silence, Lu sighs and leans back against the wall, allowing her head to hit hard enough to make me wince.
Who the hell is this girl and where did she come from? She very suddenly became involved with Satan’s Ransom—like out of the blue—and at first I thought her weight loss was from using, but I’ve never seen her use, never seen her eyes wild, dulled, or hazy, and I’ve kept a damn close watch. Dealing doesn’t make much more sense though. I’m missing something.
Three months ago, Lu was an upstanding citizen, at least on paper. Went to college on a soccer scholarship, worked part-time as a waitress until she finished her vet tech course and has worked for Burkston Animal Hospital ever since. She lived in a nice apartment and went for dinner and to the movies every Friday night with the pink ponytail brigade from work. But now? She sleeps in her car, works two jobs, and her social circle consists of Preacher, Python, and Slash.
Rubbing my hand on the back of my neck, I chew the inside of my cheek and plunk my body down next to Lu. I need to crack this case open and if the current angle isn’t working, I need to find a new one.
For my sister, for my parents, and for Reece. For the losses we’ve all suffered at their hands.
I need information. And I want it to come from Lu. First, so I can protect her legally from whatever she’s up to. And second, so Satan’s Ransom is locked up for a good long time, unable to hurt her. Otherwise, when shit goes down, she’ll go down with it.
Possibly the same way it went down for my sister.
Things had always been difficult with Lisa. Fights with our parents, constant drama at school with her friends and boyfriends, her low self-esteem which eventually presented in disordered eating; my sister was a mess. But she was also the first one to make me laugh after a shitty day, the first one to drag me out for a run when I needed it or take me to a ridiculous costume party so I could let loose. Quick to anger, but quicker to apologize, Lisa was worth all the heartache.
When she got involved with Satan’s Ransom, she ruined my dream of becoming a cop and I was bitter about it for a long time—didn’t speak to her for over six months. No law enforcement agency wants officers with ties—however loose—to any criminal organization. My dream was in her hands and she chose them—a fucking MC.
But she was my family, and she told me she was happy, so I let go of my dream and opened my own security firm instead. And when Lisa came crying to me, bloody, beaten, and pregnant, I was there for her. But after Reece was born, she went right back to Preacher.
Her death was ruled a suicide, but my parents and I knew it wasn’t. Preacher was untouchable though. The cops told us there was no evidence and any probing into her death would compromise several important federal investigations.
Our only lucky break was that Satan’s Ransom never knew about Reece. And Lisa never put Preacher’s name on the birth certificate.
My parents took legal custody of Reece and life went on, for them anyway. I never let it go. I started compiling evidence to bring Satan’s Ransom to their damn knees that first night the police brushed us off and I haven’t stopped since.