Chapter 40
Quinn
I only saw Zane a handful of times in the next four days. Meanwhile, I split my time between settling in and caring for Keith. He was doing better, but we were all convinced he had broken ribs. Moving hurt him. Hell, even breathing caused him pain.
To occupy my mind, I decorated my new home or, well, one of my new homes. Zane said I could put up anything I wanted as long as I left his turtle decorations alone. Apparently, he had a thing for the creatures, and most of his collection was given to him by his late grandpa, which was why he displayed them so proudly.
It was amazing how different the guys were from each other. Zane was tasteful and took pride in his home, always making sure it was presentable. His things were organized and mature. Keith and Taven, however, lived in a full-on bachelor pad. They didn’t have a single matching dish or cup. There was even a shelf designated for fast food cups they used for alcohol. Posters of anime shows and female models, both dressed and naked, adorned the walls. Toy motorcycles littered the shelves, and there was a general messiness everywhere. Every time I went over to their place, the coffee table was filled with empty bottles and junk like candy wrappers and ashtrays filled with the ass ends of joints.
I was busy cleaning up the aforementioned coffee table when Zane burst through the door, twirling a set of keys in his hand. “Good, you’re here.”
“Where else would I be besides your house?”
He looked around as if he were worried about something for a moment. Shaking his head, he walked into the kitchen, and I followed him. He picked up a cup and a bottle of Crown Apple from the freezer. Opening the fridge, he rummaged through the contents until he grabbed a bottle of pineapple juice. “Want a drink?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just help yourself.”
He opened the cap on the Crown Apple bottle. “I am. Do you want one?”
“Sure.”
Returning to his task, Zane poured us both a glass and, thankfully, put everything back where it was supposed to go. “You seemed shocked that I just decided to make myself a drink.”
“I am a little,” I admitted, sniffing the concoction.
He grinned. “Remember, Quinn, we treat each other like family. Coming here is no different than going to my grandparents’ house. The fridge and everything in it is fair game. Same with our place; Taven and Keith can walk right in and raid the fridge all they want.” Pausing, he took a swig of his drink. “Except there is one bottle I don’t allow anyone to open. I’ll point it out to you later. It’s a special edition I got from the Jack Daniels distillery. It’s one hundred years old.”
Nodding, I took a drink. My eyes lit up the moment the liquid hit my tongue. “Oh, this is dangerous,” I muttered. “I can see myself getting properly wasted on this.”
He laughed, “Yeah, it’s Crown Apple and pineapple concentrate. It’s alright with regular pineapple juice but not as good. I had to get creative at one of our parties. We were out of soda to mix with, and the only thing we had left was a can of concentrate. It worked. We call it a Royal Sunrise.”
“Well, it’s damned good,” I said, taking a full gulp.
“Next time, I’ll have you try a royal orchard.”
I cocked my head.
“A shot of Crown Apple and a shot of Crown Peach mixed with pineapple juice and Sprite. It’s fire.” Setting the cup down, he slid into one of the chairs at the small kitchen table. “We’re almost ready to rock and roll.”
I eyeballed him mid-drink. Slowly, I took a seat in one of the other chairs. “Rock and roll?”
He nodded. “We gave you that storage unit for a reason. It’s right next door to Chin’s unit. He only goes there when he needs to pull things out to decorate with. He already took down his Halloween stuff, which means we only have a few weeks before his wife makes him toss up the Christmas decorations.” He began tapping his fingers nervously on the table. “We need to get the pigs’ phones. That’s gonna be the tricky part. After that, it should be smooth sailing.”
I shifted in the uncomfortable chair, taking a few large gulps. I was way too sober for this, even if it was only four p.m. “What will we need to do?”
“If we can get the phones, we need to text a conversation between the pigs. That will be after we get our hands on your cop. We’ll delete the messages on Chin’s end. Then, we’ll need to return the phone and dump the body in the storage unit. That’s where you come in, Sugar. We’ll let him sit for a day or two, you’ll show up and complain to the storage manager that something smells like it died in the unit next to you, and they’ll check it out. Then boom. We already have a unit rigged with evidence that Chin planned out this entire thing. Mix that with the body of your cop, and the fucker goes away for life.”
I took another long swig, nearly finishing off the entire drink. “And you don’t think they will assume it’s a frame job?”
Zane shook his head. “No. There is no way they will think three ratty ass bikers who do manual labor are smart enough to pull this shit off.” He grinned wickedly. “Besides, Chin is the one who ordered his unit to kill the members of our club to cover their fuck up. They don’t know we know the truth. Why would we want to murder the cops who took down the man who killed our families? Through the texts, we can make it look like Chin was working with Moralles, and he got scared. We’ll frame it like they were worried one of the cops was going to flip and turn them all in.”
I smirked. “You watch a lot of crime documentaries, don’t you?”
Zane chuckled, “Maybe a few.” He cleaned and towel-dried his empty cup before setting it back in the cupboard. At least one of the guys liked to be neat. Keith and Taven let their dishes pile up before running a load.
“So, how do we even do all of this?”
Zane shrugged. “Getting into the storage unit is the easy part. We replaced his lock a long time ago. We cut the old one, swapped it with another, broke into his house, and gave him a new key. We know the layout, and his place is easy to break into. The problem will be getting his phone and returning it to him. All I know is we need to do it. Otherwise, how do we explain why Moralles ends up dead?”
I slouched, looking down at my glass. “Too bad we can’t just drug him.”
“You’re a fucking genius!”
Furrowing my brows, I leaned back in the chair. “Okay?”
“He goes to the Dusty Bottoms every Friday night after work. He likes to hit on the owner.” Zane rolled his eyes. “I think he’s fucking her on the side, but who knows. Maybe you can get a little flirty with him and slip something into his drink.”
I shook my head. “That won’t work. One of my best friends works there. She’d question me. What the fuck do I say? I’m sure she already thinks I’m a hoe for sleeping with you three. Plus, she knows I don’t like cops.”
“That sounds like a shitty friend if you ask me.”
I sighed, “Well, there is a stigma to women sleeping around. Apparently, it’s just fine for men, but women get a bad rap. I fucking hate it. Men get high fives, and women are treated like shit for being sexual.”
“I can’t lie, that is kind of shitty.” Zane leaned forward, putting his elbows up on the table. He sat for a long while, deep in thought. “Alright, Taven and I will show up; we usually avoid the Bottoms on Fridays because Chin will be there. We’ll create a distraction, and you’ll chat up your friend and then drop something in his drink when his back is turned. Hopefully, we can get him to follow us into the bathroom before he passes out, and we’ll take his phone.”
“This all seems way too easy.” I let the entire plan run through my head. “Alright, let’s say this works. What about cameras at the storage place?”
“You act like we didn’t have all this shit planned out way before you ever came along. We know the owner. We sell a shit ton of coke to him.” Zane shrugged. “He’s a small-time dealer, and we supply him. Our meeting place is our unit, the unit we gave you. The cameras that face that section stay broken.”
I groaned, “Not only am I dating three serial killers, but drug dealers as well.”
“I prefer the term vigilante. But yeah, we are drug dealers.” He tapped on the tattoo under his eye. “We’re outlaws. We didn’t get this tattoo for being Boy Scouts.”