Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Maggie—
I’m dressed in black leggings and a black zip-up hoodie, my hair tucked inside.
Parking a block from Brothers’ Garage, I backtrack.
There’s a small red pickup truck parked in the lot, and the overhead bay doors are rolled up.
I see their employee, Buddy, sitting on an overturned bucket working on a bike.
I creep closer in the shadows.
Music plays on a radio. It’s head-banging rock, so even if I make a sound, I don’t think he’ll hear me.
His back is to me, and I slip into the far bay and duck behind the car parked there with its hood up.
It’s almost 10:00pm, and I wonder how long he plans to stay here. He’s sipping a beer between wrenching.
A couple of teens roll through the parking lot on their mountain bikes.
“Hey, dude, got any extra beer?” one stops and asks.
“Beat it, kid,” Buddy says. When they ride off, cursing him, he gets up and closes the overhead doors, throwing the bolt to lock them in place.
I keep my head down, praying he doesn’t come to this side.
A minute later, the music shuts off, and I hear his phone ring.
“Yeah?” he answers. “No, babe. I’m just leaving. I’ll be home soon. Yeah, okay. Diapers and milk. Anything else? Okay. Love you. Bye.”
He whistles a tune, and I hear tools clanking like he’s tossing them in a tool chest.
Finally, the overhead fluorescent lights go out, and I hear the door open and close.
It’s dark except for the neon sign in the office window, which I can see through the open doorway between the garage and the office.
I sneak closer and see the red pickup truck turn onto the street and drive off.
Pulling my phone out, I turn on the flashlight app and begin searching the place.
I’m not even sure what I’m looking for. I rummage through the desk in the office but find no money. Although buried in the back of the bottom drawer, I find several men’s leather wallets.
I dig through them, but all the identifications have been removed. I find a diner receipt in one of them and the signature for a credit card purchase. It’s signed Gilbert Hansen.
There’s a Hansen’s Hardware store on Wallace Avenue. Could this belong to the owner?
The robbers took a lot of wallets that night in my bar. Maybe this guy was there.
The only explanation for these wallets to be in this desk, buried in the back of a drawer, is that they’re guilty.
The confirmation knocks me on my ass. I drop to the cold linoleum.
A second later, headlights flash across the windows, and I scramble to my knees, peering over the desk. It’s the little red truck again.
“Fuck,” I hiss and dash behind the open door.
I hear keys jangle, and the door in the garage open, then footsteps.
“I told you I checked.” Buddy moves toward the back of the building somewhere.
“Yes, it’s fucking locked. What are you so fucking afraid of?
It’s not like we keep the money here, which, by the way, my cut is almost gone.
When’s our next hit? Sure, you don’t have kids to support.
I’ve got four mouths to feed, and you pay me shit.
Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I checked the fucking locks. ”
I hear him pacing across the garage bay.
“Hang on. I can’t hear you. Let me put you on speaker.”
“I said one of the Royal Bastards could be trouble. We need to take care of him.”
My mouth falls open at Remy’s voice.
Buddy chuckles. “Like you took care of the last one who got in our way, Remy? Derek told you that you fucked up with that, but you wouldn’t listen. Ever since then, they’ve been a thorn in our side. Now they’re everywhere.”
I lean back and brush against a bulletin board, knocking a calendar to the floor.
My hand slams over my mouth.
“Wait a minute. I think I heard something.”
A small creature scampers past me across the floor and darts out the door into the garage.
“Only a fucking mouse. Didn’t you put those traps down? I swear the place is crawling with the damn things. Whatever. I’m tired and I’m going home. Call me tomorrow.”
I hear the door slam shut and the deadbolt lock.
I stay motionless until the headlights flash across the windows and disappear.
Then I slip out the door, shut it, and run to my car.
I’m breathing hard when I climb inside and slam the lock down.
My heart is racing all the way to the bar.
What do I do? The MC is going to kill them. Could I be with Keno if he kills my brothers?
Maybe if I turn them in before the MC gets ahold of them, it’ll save their lives. They’ll be in jail, and they’ll hate me for it, but at least they’ll be alive.
It’s late and dark, and I don’t feel like parking in the alley, so I find a spot on the street and go in through the front door.
A late ball game plays on the flat screens, and several groups of guys are playing darts.
Baja’s behind the bar, and his eyes sweep over my outfit and follow me all the way to the backstairs.
I know he plans to close at eleven, and it’s almost that now.
Trudging up the stairs, I’m exhausted.
I unlock the door, flip on the lights and slam my back against the door when I see a figure sitting at my kitchen table.
“Keno! What the hell are you doing? You scared me to death.”
“Where were you?”
I’m breathing like I just ran a mile. “What?”
“Where were you?”
“I just… went for a walk.”
“In your car? Don’t lie to me, Six.” He stands and stalks toward me.
“How did you get in?”
“You left the door open. Where were you?” His eyes sweep over my dark clothing.
My shoulders drop.
“I snuck in my brothers’ garage.”
His brows shoot up. “What did you say?”
“I snuck in. I think they…” God, I can’t say the words.
“Take a ride with me.” He grabs my arm.
“Now?” I try to pull back, but he’s having none of it. “Keno. Stop. I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”
“We need to talk. But not here.”
We go out into the alley, and he climbs on his bike and passes me a helmet.
“I’m really not in the mood for this.”
“Then you’re really not going to be in the mood to see what happened to your bike.”
“What?” I glance back and see that the front tire is missing, and the forks are all mangled. “Oh my God.”
Before I can jump off the back of the bike, Keno roars off down the alley and onto the street. He doesn’t slow down until we’re miles outside of town and climbing into the mountains.
I pound on his shoulders. “I’m cold and I want to go home.”
He doesn’t reply, just reaches back and squeezes my thigh.
A mile down the road he makes another turn and soon slows to turn into a gravel driveway. It’s long and narrow, and I can’t imagine where it leads. We come through the trees, and there before us is a log cabin.
There are no vehicles and no lights on.
He stops the bike, and I scramble off, tearing my helmet off. “Where are we?”
“Rock’s cabin.”
“Why are we here?”
“Because you and I need to be alone. We’ve got a lot of shit to talk about.”
He takes my hand and leads me up three steps onto a porch, then keys the door.
Flipping the light, he shuts the door behind us, and I get my first look around.
The place is rustic with a big stone fireplace with windows in the corners on either side. It’s decorated with warm colors, overstuffed armchairs, and colorful braided rugs.
I rub my upper arms.
“I’ll get a fire going. The place will warm up in no time.”
“Keno, my bike is destroyed. I need to get it fixed. God, I’m so pissed. Who would have done that?”
“Could have been anybody. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
“Have you been here before?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“But Rock gave you the key?”
“Yep.”
“He knows you were bringing me up here?”
“Actually, it was his idea.”
My brows lift. “What? Why?”
“Because I needed a safe place to put you, and the club doesn’t have a safe house.”
“Safe house? Put me? What the hell are you talking about?” I throw out a hip.
“Babe, don’t get your panties in a wad. I needed a place where I knew you couldn’t contact your brothers.” He holds out his hand. “Give me your phone?”
“Why?”
“Can’t have you calling them, Six.” He waggles his fingers. “Hand it over.”
I know he’ll wrestle me for it if he has to, so I pull it out and smack it hard into his palm. That only earns me a grin.
He shoves it in his pocket and moves to the fireplace, calling over his shoulder. “There should be some whiskey in a cabinet. Why don’t you pour us both some?”
I want to stomp my foot, but I don’t need Keno mad at me. I may have to ask him not to kill my brothers later, and it’d be better if he still liked me when I do it.
“Fine.” I whirl and head to the kitchen area.
I find a bottle in a cabinet next to some short cut glasses. I fill them and carry them into the living room.
Keno is squatted down, tossing logs in a pile, then adding kindling.
Soon flames lick up the side of the logs, snapping and crackling.
The two of us stand in front of the blaze, warming up and watching the yellow flames crawl over the bark of a new log.
I pass him a glass, and he clinks his to mine.
“Cheers,” I say.
“Warmer?” Keno asks, staring at it.
I nod and hold my hand to the heat.
He watches me intently. “You know I want you to be happy, right?”
“Yes.” And suddenly I’m afraid of what’s coming.
“No secrets between us, okay? You need to understand that you can trust me—with everything. Maybe you don’t get that yet, but you will.”
Everything? I don’t trust easily anymore, not since he walked out on me.
But now he looks at me like I’m his everything.
He makes me feel like I am—like he’d do anything for me, like he’d have my back no matter what, which is crazy because he’s been gone from my life for so long.
He was once my everything. I’ve never had anyone look at me like he does.
“Do you trust me, Six? I need to hear you say that you do.”
I turn my head. I can’t bear to look into his eyes and lie to him, and I’m not sure I can tell him the truth. It’s too soon. Everything was so good. It’s too soon to bring it crashing down.
A firm hand grips my chin, making me look back at him.