Chapter 3 #2
“Why don’t we have a seat. I’ve got some news.” Crockett suggested without addressing why his men were destroying her house and everything in it. When she didn’t immediately move, he roughly took her by the arm and steered her toward a kitchen chair. At least those weren’t broken yet.
“Where are they? Breaker would not be cool with you doing this to my house. His son lives here.” She didn’t miss the muscle in his jaw ticking, a clear indication that she was close to pissing him off.
“Sweetness,” Crockett reached out and took both her hands in his own. She tried to pull them away, only to have him tighten his grip to an almost painful level. “We’re here to tell you that Breaker was killed today.”
Her hearing must have gone out. She couldn’t have possibly heard what she thought she heard. Blood was roaring in her ears, and she was starting to feel faint. She couldn’t breathe. “What did you say?” Her whisper sounded strangled to her own ears.
“Breaker was killed today.”
“What? How? When?”
“He was shot while conducting club business earlier this afternoon.”
With the words, conducting club business, it was Crockett’s way of saying she’d never know what happened, and she better not ask.
Holy shit. Poor Oliver. He was going to be so heartbroken.
How was she going to tell him that his father had died and was never coming home again?
She succeeded in pulling one of her hands free and ran it through her hair, trying not to freak the hell out.
Oliver! Where was Oliver? She shot to her feet so fast, Crockett lost his grip on her other hand.
Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was nearly five o’clock.
School dismissed at three o’clock, and if no one picked him up by 3:30, the school would have called Breaker.
If they couldn’t reach him, they would have called her.
“Oliver. Oh, my God. I’ve got to go find Oliver.” She turned to leave, only to come up short when Crockett grabbed her arm.
“Calm down, sweetness.”
“No. I can’t.” She was so caught up in panic, worrying about her nephew, she missed the hard glint in Crockett’s eyes, signaling she needed to tread more carefully.
“Why didn’t the school call me when Breaker didn’t pick him up?
I’ve got to go find him.” She tried to leave again.
Crockett tightened his grip on her arm and shook her hard.
“Listen to me!” He growled in her face.
Despite how worried she was for her nephew, she wasn’t so far gone that she didn’t see the mean look in Crockett’s eye or the way he bared his teeth.
“We have Oliver.”
“What?! How did you manage to pick him up?” She was no longer panicked or scared. She was pissed.
“Nickle’s wife posed as his mother and picked him up.”
“What? She’s not on the parent pick-up list.”
“It doesn’t matter how she did it. It’s done, and we have him at the clubhouse.”
“When do I get him back?” Her tone was deceptively calm.
“Breaker owed the club money. When we didn’t find it in his room at the clubhouse, we had to come here to search. Do you have any idea where he would have kept it? We know he spent the night here a few times a week.”
“I don’t know,” she responded. He was lying. Any money her brother made, he put in the bank. Some he gave to her to help provide for his son, and the rest he wanted to save to buy a new car to transport Oliver safely without having to borrow her car and leaving her stranded.
“Found it.” One of the brothers was coming in through the door leading to the garage, waving a stack of money. Where did that come from?
“Where’d you find it, Tuff?”
“Hidden in the Christmas tree box.” Smiling widely, he handed it over to the PFMC president.
Crockett looked at her like she should have known it was there.
“I had no idea. He doesn’t tell me everything.” Now that they had their money, maybe they would leave, and she could get Oliver back. “Can I have Oliver now?”
“Sure, I’ll have Nickle bring him back.”
She knew she was pushing it, but she asked, “Can you text him now, please? I have to fix him dinner.” Hopefully, she still had a few dishes that weren’t broken.
On second thought, maybe she’d take him to a hotel tonight as a treat, and she’d take off tomorrow to clean up this mess while he was at school?
No, she couldn’t do that. She still had to tell him about his dad.
Goddamn Crockett for putting her in this situation, and goddamn him for getting her brother killed.
“I really don’t like your tone. How did Breaker put up with you?” Crockett pulled his phone out and texted Nickle to bring her nephew back. After that, they’d cleared out and left her alone, standing in the middle of the mess.
She wasn't sure where to start cleaning this mess, but she had to try to get as much done as possible before her nephew got home.
Seeing his room hadn't been spared, she started there. Some of his toys were broken like they’d been stepped on, and his books flung about the room.
His bed had been torn apart, but not cut into, so she counted that as a blessing as she made the bed with clean sheets.
The thought of any of those disgusting pigs touching his things pissed her off.
Stepping into her room, she wasn't surprised by the mess they'd left behind.
Like with Oliver's bed, she stripped off her sheets and replaced them with clean ones.
Instead of putting her clothes back where they belonged, she just gathered them all up, along with the sheets, and took them to the laundry room to start a load of laundry.
She was just starting to straighten the living room when Oliver got home.
He came in, took a look around, and asked what had happened.
After flipping the cut-up cushions over, she sat him on the couch and explained that they'd had a break-in. Then she had the heartbreaking task of having to tell him that his dad had been killed and wouldn’t be coming home.
They’d held each other and cried for what felt like forever. It was the saddest day of her life.
She should have known Crockett wasn’t done with her even after they found the money in her garage.
He came back wanting the money from whatever life insurance policy he had.
Again, he threatened to take Oliver away.
He’d proven they were able to get to her nephew at any time, so after the funeral costs were deducted, she turned that money over, too.
She’d had enough presence of mind to transfer all of the money from his bank account to hers.
There had been $23,315. She took $20,000 and left the rest because she knew Crockett would come looking, and it was better for him to find a little than none at all.
She didn’t know what woke her from a fitful sleep, but her headache was gone, and it was time to get up. She needed to find a new job. “And thank you so much for that, Jed,” she mumbled as she sat down at her computer and crossed her fingers.
* * *
Sadie
It wasn’t until Tuesday that Sadie was able to look for a job, and it was dumb luck that she landed a bartending position at Big Dick’s.
She’d walked in just as Big Dick was firing the current bartender for skimming from the till.
After being told there were no openings or she was underqualified at the last four places she’d sought employment, she crossed her fingers that she landed this one.
Unbuttoning a couple of buttons on her shirt to give Big Dick a better view of her cleavage, she took off her coat, but left her scarf on to cover the bruising around her throat.
They were fading but, unfortunately, they were still visible.
She made sure to exaggerate the roll of her hips as she approached the bar.
As she hoped, Big Dick was watching her with a calculated eye.
“What can I get you?” he asked around the unlit cigar in his mouth. He wasn’t an overly big man, but he was stout and solid. Standing a little under six feet tall, he had a wide chest and shoulders with thick tattooed arms. His hair was cut super short, to the point it looked like white stubble.
She hiked a hip and took a seat across from him. “I couldn’t help but notice you need a bartender.” She tipped her head toward the front door that the man slunk out of.
“Yeah. I might be. You ever slung drinks before?”
“Yes. When I lived in Taos, I worked behind the bar at an Applebee’s for six months.”
“Six months? Is that all?”
“Yes. I had to quit and find a day job when my nephew was born. His mom skipped out, and his father was in a motorcycle club.” She left it at that.
Some people were okay with motorcycle clubs, and others, like herself, thought they were all a bunch of no-good criminals.
Although after meeting the Sons of Redemption, she might have to rethink her opinion of them.
Maybe they could be the exception to the rule.
Besides, if she decided they weren’t so bad didn’t mean she had to be best friends with any of them or spend time with them.
She could continue to avoid them whenever possible.
“What about your nephew? Where’s he now? With his dad?”
“No. My brother was killed, and I have full custody of him.”
“Don’t you need a day job?”
“Ideally, but right now I just need a job. I’ve got babysitting covered if that’s what you’re worried about.
” She didn’t, but she’d figure something out.
She had half a mind to make Jed do it since it was his fault she had to find a new job that would force her to work more hours for less pay.
The jerk owed her big time for the hell he was putting her through.
“You have any references?” he asked around the cigar.
“I worked at Bottoms Up.” She thought Tom would give her a good reference. There was no reason he shouldn’t, but who knew?
“You tend bar?” He wiggled his mouth, the cigar moving to the other side.
“No. I danced.”
Big Dick’s eyes rounded. “Oh, yeah? Why’d you quit?”
“I didn’t.”