Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
RATTLER
“What do you think?” Freak and I had come to some kind of uneasy truce having shared in the torture and death of Stone.
Well, he did all the hard work while I just watched from where I’d propped myself against the wall.
Seems he can overlook me swearing at his woman, if I do the same about him giving me another concussion for the second time in just as many days.
Dum has just left with Stone’s body in the trunk of his own car he’d driven to the clubhouse, Dee following behind in the crash truck.
They’ve detailed instructions on where to take the car, and the ravine where they should stage the accident.
Having prepared earlier, spending time disabling the air bags, Freak even made sure his cause of death would be consistent with a crash.
The prospects had instructions to set fire to the wreck to hide all evidence.
We’re now entering the clubhouse side by side, him having hung back to move at my snail’s pace while the others have gone on ahead.
He pauses, pinches the bridge of his nose, and then breathes out. “I think he was telling the truth about Satin. He was having her watched. She knew nothing about him when he went to Royals.”
I tsk. “It doesn’t make sense why she went home that night.”
“Period pains. All women get them.”
Waving him off, I don’t bother to tell him I already know that. Even the club girls have their off days. “I still think it’s suspicious.”
Snorting, he shakes his head. “You just don’t want to give up on the idea that Ames was betrayed by her friend.”
“If it wasn’t Satin, then how the fuck did they find us at the cabin?”
Freak frowns. “Yeah, that worries me as well. But the evidence against Satin is all circumstantial. Even if Stalker left the list of our properties open and she’d seen them, how the hell would she have known to zero in on the one place you would be?”
“You know? We asked him about the stripper, he never actually told us how he got his information.”
Spinning round toward me, Freak just stares for a second. “Well fuck. He started spilling all that shit about the Russians, and I guess we kind of got caught up in that.”
Sighing, I say, “I suppose it’s too late to ask him.”
“Ya think?” Freak barks a laugh. Now at the clubhouse, he pulls the door open and holds it for me to enter, then heads toward the already crowded bar where Prez, the VP and sergeant-at-arms are waiting to be served. “Drink, before facing the music?”
“I’ll take a Jack.” With me limited by my crutches, it would be easier for him to get to the front of the queue.
Something it seems he’s already taken into account as he waves toward a table. “Go sit, I’ll bring them over.”
We’d worked on Stone for a couple of hours.
Freak was right; he’d dazzled us with all the information he’d spat out.
He’d given us the names of the men who mattered in the Bratva, their ranks, what he knew about their families and any other detail including their shoe size.
Or that was what it felt like, once we’d gotten him talking, it was hard to get him to stop.
Luckily, Saint had had the forethought to record everything.
Stone had been speaking faster than any of us could take notes.
He’d also expanded on the evidence to take to the Pakhan, Prez’s idea about striking a deal and making Volkov person non grata, had been fleshed out.
We had the ammunition, and if Volkov was out of the picture, Ames would be safe.
I’d also managed to add the question to which she had wanted answers, and yes, the bastard had killed her grandparents.
That had hit me hard. Having none of my own family and having spent a good part of my childhood wishing someone would claim me, now Ames has unlocked my emotions, I could feel for her who’d cruelly had hers taken away.
Stone had given us everything except for that one thing.
How he’d found the cabin. But dead men don’t talk, and now he won’t be sharing more secrets.
If I’m truthful with Ames, I’ll be unable to give her a reason why she can’t leave me and go back to her friend.
Well, that’s if we have enough ammunition to take Volkov down and Bullseye’s plan works.
Until that’s resolved, at least I’ve got an excuse to keep her tied down a little longer.
Time, perhaps, to mend what’s gone wrong.
Though how the fuck I can get out of the hole the fucking whores had got me into, I don’t currently know.
Freak returns, placing a double Jack in front of me, while keeping hold of an identical glass for himself. Kicking out the chair opposite me, he sits down. Within moments, Prez and Saint join us at the table.
After taking a swallow of whisky, the enforcer points his drink toward me. “The brother here still thinks Satin’s a threat.”
Instead of dismissing me, Prez levels his eyes in my direction. “Whatcha got other than a gut feeling? I didn’t get the feeling Stone was holding out.”
Saint snorts. “He was not. He gave us everything else, why would he lie about not being in contact with the stripper? And did you see his face when we asked? It was as if it would have been below his station.”
I close my eyes briefly, this is a crucial moment.
Prez had already told me, if Ames wanted to leave, she could go when it was safe for her to do so.
And the mood she was in when I left her, if I hadn’t locked her in, she’d already be gone, a Russian risk or not.
While the pain at just the thought of seeing her leave hurts more than anything Stone had done to me, the idea she could be walking into danger is a hundred times worse.
Even if I can’t have her, I want her still breathing.
When I open my eyes, three faces are watching me.
Tapping the fingers of my right hand on the table, I start to gather my thoughts.
“Stone never said how he found the cabin.” I pause, and wait for the oh shit look I’d gotten from Freak.
I’m not disappointed, they react exactly how I expect.
Without waiting for their comments, I continue, “Stone said Volkov was outside Royals the night he came looking for his sister. He was going to deliver her to the Russian right there and then.” I pause as a wave of what ifs go through me.
What if the lock hadn’t been broken? What if there’d been someone around to free us?
Would I have dragged Ames out and sent her, unknowingly to her fate?
Shaking my head, I bring myself back to the present.
“It’s highly conceivable Stone kept Volkov updated about what he was doing to find his pay check.
And that might have involved him telling Volkov about Satin being her friend. ”
Prez circles his hand as if telling me to get to the point, but Saint’s faster.
With narrowed eyes the VP sits forward. “You think Volkov could have got to Satin, paid her to stay away?”
“To what point?” Freak’s head turns side to side. “What if Satin had been there? What threat could she be? If she’d been paid off, it was more likely she’d use her influence with Ames to lead her straight into the Russian’s hands.”
Tempest rubs at his temples. “I know you’re just trying to find a reason to keep her at the clubhouse, but Rat, I can’t see where the benefit is in separating Ames and Satin.”
I can’t get a handle on it, but there’s something. I know there is. “Satin leaving stranded Ames there. She’d have had to have gotten a lift from someone.”
Freak shrugs. “Joe, or one of the other staff would have run her home.”
Prez is looking at me strangely, as if his eyes are on me, but his thoughts are on something else.
He presses his fingertips to the table. “Rat may have a point. And it could be something simple. Without Satin, Ames was isolated. Ames said she clocked Stone when he arrived, but what if she hadn’t?
What if he and his men had come up on her when she was unaware?
Satin’s popular, isn’t that what you said, Freak?
While Ames is still finding her way. Ames would have tried to make her way to Satin, and if they’d approached her then, say, when Satin was on the stage, the bouncers, security and bar staff would have been up in arms.”
Freak’s eyes have narrowed. “A few of the customers as well.” And now he, too, is giving me all his attention.
“Fuck, Rat, you could be onto something. Volkov would have wanted to keep Ames separate from her friend, even if Satin wasn’t going to help.
There would have been a ruckus and he wouldn’t have had a chance to get to her. ”
Tempest’s brow furrows, then he, too, looks my way. “So Volkov, not Stone, took out an insurance policy.” He bangs his hand down on the table. “Fuck, Rat, you might be right.”
“There’s still doubt,” Prez growls, “But I want to talk to Satin again. And before Ames goes anywhere near her. For now, your woman, or whatever she is, is locked down.”
He doesn’t have to tell me. I’ll handcuff her to my fucking bed if need be. If Satin’s the traitor I think she is, then letting Ames run to her would be just the same as wrapping her in a bow and gifting her to the Russian.
Freak barks a laugh, finishes his drink and stands. “And now I’m going to have a front-row seat to see how Rat convinces the woman that hates him to stay.”
I show him my middle finger, then back it up with words. “Fuck you.”
“Can we all come?” Tempest grins. “I’d like to see Rat taken down a peg or two.”
He gets the same treatment I gave the enforcer.
“Come on, Brother,” Freak chuckles. “Putting it off ain’t going to make it better.”
“Is that right?” I raise my glass and drain it. “Seems like I’ll be getting a laugh too. I’m looking forward to seeing the ass kicking you’re going to get after locking your ol’ lady in your room.”
Freak actually pales, then as colour returns to his face, he sends a glare my way. “Seems all of that was down to you.”
“And you got your punch in for it,” Prez gives his best death stare to his enforcer. “Sounds like both of you have some grovelling to do.”
“Fuck,” both Freak and I say together. Then I motion at my empty glass, “Want another drink?”
After beckoning Dum to come over, Freak sits back down. “Sometimes, Rat, you do have good ideas.”
Prez slams his hand on the table. “Get the fuck out of here, both of you. What are you? Fuckin’ pussies or men?” I notice he’s smirking, and Tempest is hiding his mouth behind his hand.
“What can I get you?” Dum asks.
Freak looks around at the prospect and smirks. “Nothing. Just making sure you were paying attention.” When Dum disappears behind the bar, Freak gets to his feet again. He gives a pointed look in my direction.
Pulling my crutches toward me, I manage to stand.
“Rat?” Prez calls my name. “Be sure, right? If you’re going to fight for her, that it’s what you really want to do. That girl’s been through hell. She deserves to have a good life. She’s not a temporary plaything for you.”
“What I feel for her ain’t temporary,” I reply.
“Prez, I’m going to do everything I have to do.
” I bow my head, before looking up again, my stomach dropping at my words.
“But if she’s determined to cut loose, I’ll help her do that as well.
” I’d hate it. It would tear me apart. But I’d do it. Just as I’d do anything, for her.
He simply stares at me for a moment, before shaking his head. “What the fuck have you done with the Rat we all know and …”
“Hate,” Tempest inputs. “That’s the word you’re looking for.” But his eyes sparkle as he says it.
The answer is simple. Ames pointed it out. And while they’re obviously not looking to me for a response, I give it anyway. “I grew up.”
Leaving them speechless, I move away from the table, Freak helping out by shifting bodies and clearing a path. He patiently waits at the bottom while I conquer the stairs, then comes to my side as we approach his room, coming to a halt when he spies Dee standing there.
“What the fuck you doing, Prospect?”
Pushing away from the wall and snapping to attention, Dee responds. “Your ol’ lady told me to wait in case they needed anything.”
“And you take orders from my ol’ lady now?”
Dee doesn’t voice it, but his expression screams, well, duh.
Rolling his eyes, Freak demands, “Give me the key and get lost.”
Dee doesn’t hesitate to comply. Once he’s out of sight, Freak sighs. “I got myself a fuckin’ good ol’ lady.”
I swallow hard. He has. I just hope I haven’t fucked things up. For him, as well as myself.
“Ready?” he asks.
Not really, but it’s got to be done. “Yeah.”
He places the key in the lock and turns it. I don’t know about him, but I’m already opening my mouth to counteract the tirade I’m sure will be coming. But as we step inside we both come to a halt.
There, arms around each other, lay our two women, curled up and fast asleep in the middle of the bed.
What’s more, one of them is snoring. Snorting, Freak moves over to the table that’s between two chairs, and picks up a bottle of what I recognise is very good, and very strong, vodka.
I notice there’s not very much left in it.
I think we both exhale a relieved sigh together. Then we analyse the problem.
Freak’s the first to come up with a solution. “You’ll have to take Ames to your room in the bunkhouse.”
I simply stare at him. A flight of stairs down, the trek to the barn, then up more stairs. When even picking her up would be a challenge I’m sure to fail. His eyes fall on my sling, then the crutches, then he lets out his breath.
“Fuck it, I’ll take Trixie home.” He moves to the bed and scoops up his wife bridal style. She doesn’t make a sound, but as if she senses she’s safe in his arms, she snuggles into his chest.
The least I can do is get the door for him.
Then Ames and I are alone. I’m not a fool.
I’m not going to waste a moment of this.
After I visit the bathroom, take a piss and brush my teeth, I return as quietly as I can.
Sitting on the bed, I gently place my crutches on the floor, then undress.
Wearing just my boxers and t-shirt, I carefully slide in next to her, hating I can’t take the liberty of pulling her in close.
Instead I settle for resting my good arm across her, and pressing my body against hers.
As her warmth seeps me, I relish this feeling of her beside me.
I vow, I’ll do anything to keep her.
She’s the part of me I never knew I was missing.