Chapter 20 Harley
Harley
A knock on the door has my head snapping up as Hayden walks into the office.
“Hey boss, here’s the winnings for tonight,” he states, dropping a duffel bag onto the desk.
“How much?” I ask, and he smirks.
“Sixty large,” he says, and I nod.
“Take seven and put the rest in the safe. Is Braxton still here?” He shakes his head, and I sigh. I wanted to catch him before he left.
“Nah, he dipped out about thirty minutes ago. He did good tonight,” he tells me, and I smile.
“He’s a damn good fighter. Take ten and put it in the cashier bag. I’ll cash him out,” I say, and he nods.
“How are you doing? I haven’t seen you around much,” Hayden asks as he opens the safe, and I laugh.
“I’m hanging in there. Mostly at the auto shop, but since Axel is away, I needed to come here and see what we got to work with, and it seems Caspian hasn’t been keeping up with the books,” I say, and he huffs.
“If you want me to do that, I can. Caspian is more of a problem then he is helpful. He just—” he says, but I interrupt.
“Oh, I know, you don’t have to say anything further. If you want to be more than the bookie, just say the word. I know you can do the job efficiently. I just don’t have the time to be in two places at once,” I tell him, placing down my pen and leaning back against the leather chair.
“Yeah, sure. No problem.” he says, shutting the safe and locking it.
“Great. Be here at 10 a.m. tomorrow. I want weekly reports on the earnings and losses,” I say, and he stands, walking over to me.
“You got it. Here’s Braxton’s cut. I’m gonna head out,” he says, handing me the bag of cash. I take it from him as his phone beeps, making me smirk because I can probably bet with my life that it’s his girl.
“How’s Ophelia?” I ask, and he huffs.
“On my last nerve. Why are women so difficult?” he asks, and I raise a brow.
“They are wired to be difficult. Cut her some slack. You aren’t helping the situation with your toxic bullshit,” I inform him, and he plops down in the seat across from my desk, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Don’t get me wrong, that girl has been my entire world since we were 15 years old.
I’ll never love anyone but her, even if I’m reckless and stick my dick into faceless bitches when I’m pissed at the shit she does.
I know I’m wrong, but I can’t help but hurt her like she hurt me,” he says, and I shake my head.
“That tit for tat game is going to ruin you. Look what she went through. Can you blame her?” I say, and he shakes his head.
“It’s not that easy, Harley. There’s so much damage, so much hurt, and the more she pushes, the more I clap back, causing more destruction.
It’s a never ending cycle of toxicity, but I feed off that shit.
Nothing gets my dick harder than seeing her cry, and I know that’s completely fucked up.
I know, so don’t even say it.” He laughs, and I again shake my head.
“You are your own worst enemy. Has anyone ever told you that?” I ask, and he laughs.
“Daily. But at the end of the day, it will always be her, My Firefly.” He smiles with a sinister glint in his eyes.
“Yeah, well, be careful. You already know how her father is, and that look in your eye is telling me when you leave here, you’re going to start some shit,” I say, lifting my pen, and he laughs.
“Oh, for sure. But she loves it,” he replies, and I just continue to shake my head. This boy is so damn thickheaded.
“Glutton for punishment. Get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for tonight,” I tell him, and he nods, putting his fist out for me to bump.
“See ya tomorrow, boss,” he says, standing from the chair, taking his earnings, and leaving the office. I can’t help but laugh at the kid. He’s going to learn the hard way, and I’m just going to sit back and watch with a bowl of popcorn telling him I told ya so.
Shutting the notebook I was writing in, I set the pen down and shut off the computer. Standing from the chair, I stretch my limbs and grab Braxton's bag with his money in it and shut off the lights, leaving the office. I walk down the hall and see Grace cleaning up the bar.
“Finished here, Grace?” I ask, and she nods, chucking the rag into the basket with the others that need laundering.
“Yes, sir,” she replies, and I nod.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” I tell her as she rounds the bar and we head for the exit, shutting off the lights and setting the alarm.
The parking lot is empty other than our cars. She bids me goodnight, and I walk over to my truck, starting her up. Once Grace leaves the lot, I head out in the opposite direction, towards the shop. I still have a few more things to do before I can go home.
As I drive across town, I think about what the lawyer said.
I’m going to need to put up some serious cash and that still doesn’t guarantee this will all go away.
Everything is just fucked. Braxton is barely talking to us, and from what I can see, he’s not sleeping either.
Rick’s been quiet too. I’ve noticed he’s been smoking a lot more than usual and working late at the shop.
He thinks I don’t know that he’s been working on rebuilding a car for Presley, and has been for a few years now, way before they became a thing, or better yet, way before he admitted his feelings for her.
But I just mind my business and act like I know nothing.
Now Caspian is who I’m most worried about.
His behavior has been off these past couple of months.
He’s been extra calm, almost too calm, and I don’t know what to make of it, but it's worrisome. It’s like I’m waiting for the bomb to explode, that is all Caspian.
Taking a deep breath, I make a right and pull into the lot of the shop.
A few more cars than usual are here including all three of my brothers.
Killing the engine, I get out and slam the door.
The bass of the music vibrates under my feet against the concrete as I walk towards the garage door.
I don’t know what has gotten into them that they thought a party would be a good idea.
I just wanted a quiet night to finish up some paper work while drinking an ice cold beer.
Walking through the garage, I’m immediately hit with the stench of weed and both Rick and Casp have their shirts off with Cynthia and Jasmine cleaning them up. Great, what the fuck did they do now?
“Uh, what the fuck happened?” I ask, and Rick nods towards the office.
The girls step aside, and they both get up.
This can only mean they did something no one else can hear about.
Wonderful. Another mess to fucking clean up.
Opening the door, we step in and I go right for the mini fridge and grab a beer, chugging it down before I turn and look at my brothers.
“Well? Start explaining,” I growl, slamming my fists against the desk.
“You want the good news or the bad news?” Rick says with a smirk. I look at Caspian who is picking shards of glass from his knuckles. I take a deep breath and nod to Rick.
“Just tell me, I’m too fucking tired for this shit,” I tell him, and he laughs.
“Well, we know where Presley is.” And my eyes snap to his because that is not what I expected to hear.
“Where is she?” I ask, concern laced in my tone.
“With Axel at Hillsboro,” he says, but the clenching of his jaw tells me that's the bad news.
“They never took her to the hospital. According to Jacob Lee, that fuck. Jake Radley Senior paid off the EMTs to take her straight to Hillsboro,” Caspian says as he takes his knife out of his sheath, twirling it around in his hand.
“What the fuck? Is she okay? Did you get anything else out of him?” I ask, and he growls.
“You ever heard of the Brimstone house?” Rick asks and all the blood drains from my face. No! No fucking way.
“Yeah, I have! Fuck!” I yell, and they look at one another then look back at me.
“It’s where—” A knock at the door interrupts us and I snap my head toward it as it opens and Mila peeks her head in.
“Sorry to interrupt but my mother wanted me to give you this,” she says, stepping inside, holding out a photo from years ago of me and Amber. I take it from her and smile.
“Thanks, Mila. This means a lot to me. Tell your mom I said the same please,” I tell her as the lie drips from my lips like acid, and she smiles, jutting her chest out.
“Of course, Harley. Here, I brought you a beer, figured you could use it.” She giggles, handing me the brown bottle. I take it from her, but her hands linger over mine for a little too long for my liking.
“Now that you’ve eye fucked my brother, be gone,” Caspian spits, and she rolls her eyes, placing her hand on her hip.
“Have you guys seen Presley? I’ve been trying to call her but she hasn’t answered,” she asks, and we all shake our heads.
“Might want to go ask her boyfriend. Aren’t you sleeping with him?” Rick growls, and she scowls.
“Eww, no. What kind of girl do you take me for? Presley’s my best friend.
I’d never do that to her,” she says, throwing her hand over her chest like she’s so appalled that Rick would make such an accusation.
He goes to step into her space, but I put my hand up against his chest, pushing him back.
I look at Mila, smile, and lift the beer she brought me to my lips.
“Thank you again, Mila. Why don’t you go and enjoy the party,” I tell her nicely. She giggles again, then spins and leaves the same way she came in. I turn back to Rick and narrow my eyes.
“What were you going to do to her? Press her for answers? You need to chill out. We all know she’s a fucking liar.
But I need you to get it together,” I scold him, and he huffs, digging into his pocket and lighting up a joint.
“Why don’t you guys go unwind and relax.
I have paperwork to do. We can finish this conversation tomorrow,” I tell them, and they nod, leaving the office.
Tonight isn’t the night to tell them about the Brimstone house.
That's a story which needs to be told once and then never spoken about again.
Running my hands over my face, I walk over to the windows that overlook the shop and shut the blinds, then sit at my desk.
Taking a deep breath, I get to work while finishing off both beers.
Waking up the next day, I groan, rubbing my eyes and trying to figure out where the fuck I am.
Looking around, blinking a few times, I see I’m still at the shop in my office.
But why is my shirt off and my jeans unbuckled?
When the fuck did I get undressed and fall asleep?
I try to rack my brain while I move all the papers on my desk searching for my phone. I finally find it and pick it up.
“Shit! I’m late to meet with Hayden,” I say out loud.
I look around the room for my shirt, finding it on top of the filing cabinet.
What the fuck? I throw it over my head then button my jeans.
The room spins for a second and I grasp onto the desk, trying to get it together here.
What the fuck is happening? I shake my head a few times and walk to the mini fridge and grab a bottle of water, chugging it down. Damn, I was thirsty.
Chucking the empty bottle into the trash can, I dig in my pocket for my keys and head out. Opening the door, I see the shop is cleaned up and the garage door is closed. That’s the least they can do after throwing a party here.
Stepping out into the sunlight, I squint as I walk towards my truck.
Opening the door, I hear cars rolling through the gate and look up.
It’s four squad cars. What the fuck happened now?
My phone begins to vibrate in my pocket as the cars stop in front of me and officers get out fairly quickly, drawing their guns.
“Harley Cyprus. Don’t move! Put your hands behind your head! You are under arrest,” an officer yells, and my eyes widen. What the fuck? I raise my arms and put them behind my head as instructed.
“Officer, why am I being arrested?” I ask as two officers come up to me and grab my arms, pulling them down as cuffs wrap around my wrists.
“For the rape of Mila Horvath. You have the right to remain silent…” And my world spins as he reads me my Miranda rights.
I didn’t fucking touch that girl. This can’t be fucking happening.
She’s fucking underage! I’d never touch her.
What the fuck! But I can’t say shit, so I don’t, because I can’t fucking remember!
Pulling me roughly by my bicep and walking me over to the car, I see a limo just outside the gates and my eyes collide with Jake Radley Senior with a smirk across his face.
That mother fucker! This was a fucking set up. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!