Chapter 8
Igo home the next morning because when I wake, Knox is gone. I can’t stand to be here for a second longer, so Mera takes me back to the farmhouse. She has barely been gone five minutes when I hear the front door open. I know who it is long before I see his face appear in the kitchen.
Ralston fucking Cupp.
“Good morning, Callie. I see you’ve cleaned up the kitchen, good for you. I was worried for a minute you might die of a rare disease before we could get to know each other better.”
The sly smirk on his face makes me want to slap him.
“Do you break into all your women’s houses, or am I just special?” I cross my arms, squinting at him over the kitchen island. The man is a walking billboard for slick southern evil, all white teeth and tailored denim, not a speck of dust on him despite the weather.
Ralston sets a crisp envelope on the counter. “Not all of them. Just the ones who are too interesting to stay away from.”
“Well, trust me, there is nothing interesting about me. I’m not the kind of person you want working for you. I’m not Harper.”
He opens the envelope, fans out three photos onto the counter.
“That’s a delightfully naive stance, but I think we both know you’ll do whatever I want.
For example—” He slides the photos toward me.
They’re of Ruger, hunched over in his cell.
I can’t see his face, but his hands are bloody, and I just know he’s messed up.
My heart breaks.
I reach for the top photo but flinch at the sight of my own hand, shaking. I ball it up and stuff it into the front pocket of my jeans. “What’s your fucking game, Ralston?”
He lifts his chin, eyes me like he’s already bored.
“I built a trust in that dead girl’s name, and I need you to keep the lights on, so to speak.
You’re going to help me, too, or your brother will have a lot more to worry about than bloodied knuckles.
I wonder if they’ll at least give him a nice meal before they drive a shiv into his guts. ”
I want to kill him.
I stare at him, hoping he can see the pure hatred in my expression. “I don’t know how to do any of this shit. What do you want from me? Clean money? Illegal sales?”
He leans closer, drops his voice to a silken whisper. “Don’t panic now, sweetheart. We will ensure you know exactly how it operates. Your name is on this farm now, and that means everything that goes with it.”
My lips go numb. I want to punch him, or vomit, or scream. Instead, I grit out, “And if I say no?”
He grins, teeth still perfect. “Sweetie, you already know the answer to that.”
He saunters around the island, grabs a glass from the dish rack, and helps himself to the bottle of whiskey by the microwave. “One last thing. You spent the night with Knox, didn’t you?”
I force myself to look unmoved. “You have someone tailing me?”
He tips the glass at me in salute. “I like to know where my employees are. He’s got beef in the game, and the last thing I need is that club sticking their noses in where it doesn’t belong.”
I open my mouth, close it. Be careful, Callie.
I need the club to help me out of this, and the only way I can do that is to make Ralston believe I’m not there for good reasons.
“I can’t stand Knox, and I can’t stand that Harper was in love with him.
He is the reason all of this happened. If she never got involved with a biker, she might have never met you.
Either way, the club has ties, and those ties can help me get my brother out of prison.
I am getting information I can use against them to make them do what I want, which is help me get my brother out.
So, if I have to fuck Knox a few times to get it, I will. ”
It’s a believable lie.
I keep my face blank, like I’m unbothered by his scrutiny.
Ralston’s gaze slides over my face, reading every twitch of muscle.
He leans close—close enough I can count the flecks of gold in his eyes.
“If you’re lying to me, Callie, you’re going to discover a new and exciting world of pain.
And more than that, you’ll have to live with what happens to the people you love. You understand me?”
“What would I gain from lying to you? I see how it ended for Harper, I’m not an idiot.”
He looks somewhat taken aback by my words, but quickly straightens out.
“Do whatever you want with that biker scum, but you keep the club out of our business. If I find out you’re talking to anyone about this, that’ll be the end of your brother. There’s only one way out for him, you get me?”
Maybe he’s expecting me to cry. I won’t. “I get you.”
He straightens and nods. “Well, have a wonderful day, Callie. Someone will be around soon to show you the ropes.”
With that, he’s gone.
I stare at the empty doorway for a long time.
Fuck.
What have I gotten myself into?
So much for staying away from Knox, now I actually have to make it look like I’m fucking him because if I don’t, Ralston will end my brother’s life. What stupid sort of plan was that? I am an idiot. An actual idiot.
Now I have to tell Knox the good news.
That should be fun.
Exhaling, I pick up my phone and dial his number.
“Yeah?” he answers, voice gruff.
Fantastic, he’s pissed. Well, I did beg him not to kiss me last night, and I’m quite certain that hasn’t happened in his life before.
“We have a slight, ah, problem.”
“I’m listenin’.”
“Ralston came here. I have no choice but to work with him until I can find a way to stop this. But, ah, he had a problem with me hanging around the club, so I may, or may not, have told him that I am fucking you to get information that I can use against you so you’re forced to use your connections to release my brother. ”
Dead silence.
I hold my breath, closing my eyes.
“Be there in five.”
The line goes dead.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
I move to the porch and wait for Knox to arrive. He does, his Harley rumbling down the drive in a matter of minutes. When he gets off, I can see that he’s pissed. He tosses the helmet onto the seat and stalks towards me, his jaw tight.
“What the fuck were you thinkin’ agreein’ to help that cunt.”
Jesus.
“Well, my brother’s life is on the line, so sorry if I decided family mattered enough to me.”
He glares at me. “You’re playing with fire, you’ll end up dead.”
“Not if the club helps me figure this out once and for all.”
He flinches. “You want me to ask the club I call family to risk it all to help you?”
“God, no need to be so fucking rude about it. Surely my life matters a little more than that.”
He doesn’t answer.
I glare at him.
“How the fuck do you think we’re goin’ to take Ralston Cupp down. Do you have any fuckin’ idea who he is, and who he is in bed with?”
“Well, what else would you have me do, risk my brother’s life?”
“Your brother made a choice.”
I stand, shoving him so hard in the chest he actually takes a few steps back. “Go fuck yourself. If you don’t want to help, then leave. Either way, I’m not going to let my brother die.”
He growls, low in his chest. “I’ll speak to Wolfe. Ralston gets wind of this, you’re dead.”
“No shit,” I snap. “Lucky for you, he believed my little lie. So, I guess that means from now on, you’re going to have to act like you actually like me.”
My words are harsh, but I’m angry.
He is, too.
“Might as well ask for a fuckin’ miracle. Don’t leave. I’ll speak to Wolfe.”
With that, he turns and leaves.
Well, one step forward, a million steps back.
Isn’t that always how it goes?
I CAN’T SLEEP THAT night. I lie in bed, counting the stains on the ceiling, using the slow crawl of dawn as an excuse to move my body. By sunrise, I’m up, showered, and halfway through a pot of coffee. The house is silent, and honestly, I’m not a fan.
I am just about to start cleaning for the day when a text appears on my phone. It’s from Knox. Wolfe wants to speak. Be here at 9. No later.
I type back. I’ll be there. Impeccably on time. Possibly in a pantsuit.
He doesn’t answer. I spend ten minutes glaring at my phone, just in case, but nothing.
Asshole.
You best believe if I had a pantsuit, I would be wearing it. Instead, I go with faded jeans, a loose white tank, and a pair of Converse. Then, I get myself to the club before Knox has another reason to be pissed at me.
It’s quiet when I arrive, and I am guessing by the mass of empty beer cans, half-naked women, and the smell of cigarettes in the main area, that they partied hard last night.
I move towards the main bar, and when I get in, Wolfe is already sitting, a massive mug of black coffee in front of him.
He looks up, not smiling, but nods to me.
Knox, Zane, Talon, and Kael are all standing around, some smoking, some drinking coffee, all of them staring at me as I walk in. I avoid Knox’s stare, really wishing I had a pantsuit just to see his expression, and go and sit on the stool beside Wolfe.
"Coffee?” Wolfe asks and gestures to the coffee pot. I pour myself a cup.
"We're gonna help you," he finally goes on, "But we're not gonna rush this. Ralston Cupp is connected. He’s smart and he’s fuckin’ dangerous. Need time to figure out how the fuck to bring him down.”
"Awesome," I murmur into my coffee, keeping my eyes glued to the cup.
"For now, you go with what he tells you to do. We'll watch him, scope out every move, every person he sends to your farm. We'll get the dirt, and when the time is right, we take him down. You just do as he says in the meantime. Keep your head above water. You got that?"
I nod, resisting the urge to ask what “take him down” means, exactly. But I already know. Men like Wolfe don’t call the police.
"And your brother," Wolfe adds, a little less rough. "We'll keep tabs. If Cupp tries anything in lockup, we'll know."
My throat tightens, but I play it cool. "Thank you."
Wolfe finishes his coffee in one swallow and stands. “Knox’ll keep you updated. Do what he tells you, and we’ll have no problem. Clear?”
"Crystal," I say. “Sir.”
I’m being sarcastic, but it brings a grin to his face anyway. “Knew I liked you.”
With that, he turns and leaves.
The other guys follow, leaving me alone with Knox.
"We’re goin’ to the store,” he says, pushing to his feet. “You need some hardware to secure those doors properly. Let’s go.”
I follow him, but not before letting out a large exhale.
The hardware store is empty except for a single bored teenager pretending to restock.
We walk the aisles, Knox pushing the cart, completely unbothered by the silence lingering between us.
While I’m here, I decide I will get some more cleaning supplies, mostly so I have something to do with my hands.
I load up on bleach, gloves, sponges, and some trash bags. Knox pays for the lot of it, even when I argue, and continues to act as though I don’t exist as we walk into the parking lot. Not a single person in a five-mile radius would believe this man likes me.
If Ralston is watching, he knows I’m a fat fucking liar.
"You know Ralston's probably got someone following me," I mutter, "And I can promise you that they’re reporting back to him right now that there is no possible way the two of us are seeing each other, let alone even like each other. Hell, I am getting more attention from that homeless man by the road that keeps winking at me.”
I wink back at the man who gives me a toothy grin and goes back to sleeping.
Knox freezes right near the tailgate of his truck, hands gripping so tight the knuckles go bone white.
Then, before I can blink, he grabs my wrist and spins me so we're face to face.
The next thing I know, I'm pressed up against the back of the cold truck, my arms full of cleaning supplies and my heart full of bad decisions.
He kisses me. No warning, no buildup. His mouth crashes into mine and it’s not sweet, it’s not gentle, but it is everything I remember from the first time, only now, there’s nothing to hide behind.
My entire body lights up and the bags crash to the pavement and I wrap my hands in the neckline of his shirt, pulling him closer even as I know I should run, scream, do anything to keep this second of oxygen from catching fire.
He breaks the kiss, panting, and his eyes are so wild it makes me dizzy. "That good enough for you?" he growls. “Or should I fuck you right here, too?”
I swallow, trying to catch my breath. “Flowers would have sufficed.”
He grunts, but I can see the hint of amusement in his gaze. “Don’t push your luck.”
He lets go, grabs the fallen bags, and gets into the truck. I force my wobbly legs to work, and follow him. We don’t talk the whole way home. When he drops me off, he holds my gaze for a long minute, his expression intense.
“Don’t fuck this up,” he says, “Or, I’ll kill you myself.”
A statement, not a threat. I almost believe him.
I snort. “Yes sir.”
With that, he gets out of the truck and gets to work.
And I am left even more confused than I was ten minutes ago.
This man is messing with my head, and I’m scared to admit that I might just like it.