Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
DEUCE
Later that night, Ace and the rest of the Kings enter the office where I first saw Sammie hammering the shit out of the safe.
In time, it will become the home of our weekly church meeting, but right now the table is made out of two saw horses with a slab of plywood on top.
The chairs are whatever we could salvage.
It’s a decent size room, but someday, I want a polished wood table with the Kings insignia etched in the middle like the one we had five years ago.
We settle in; Ace fires up a joint, drags deep and passes it to me. I inhale the sweet smoke and pass it back to him as Fist fills the shot glasses circled around a bottle of Jack. He pushes one toward each of us, and I stand.
“Here’s to hard work and getting shit done.”
“Fuck yeah” echoes through the room. I down my shot, pour myself another, then ease into my chair. I’m mostly healed, but after a day of heavy lifting and swinging a hammer, my ribs ache.
I turn to Scratch. “How are our finances looking?”
He flips open his laptop. “Not bad, especially with the contribution from the Russians.”
Scratch talked to his Russian contacts up on the boards, and they were willing to kick in for protection in return. Seems Viper and the Dogs are extorting them and threatening their businesses.
“When do you see this place opening for business?” I shoot a look to Shady and Fist, who’ve worked construction since high school. I’ve made them the foremen on the job since they know the most about the building out process.
“I’d say we could do a soft opening in another two and a half, three weeks.” Ace passes me the weed. “The back hall needs another coat of paint, and we’re waiting on the delivery of the bar stools and the rest of the glassware.”
“I got the liquor suppliers all set for delivery,” Ace adds. “They just need a check, and we’re good to go.”
I look around the room. “Can’t believe it, but it looks like shit is finally coming together.”
With the money I had stashed and my brothers all donating to the cause, we are finally at the finish line.
“Any rumblings from the Dogs?” Scratch asks.
“Nothing.” Which amps me up. Viper isn’t one to give up easy.
“I’ve done some asking around, and nobody’s seen any of the Dogs in AC, or anywhere outside Philly.” Scratch flicks his lighter.
“I’d say Viper got the message,” Ace adds, “but he’s too fuckin’ stupid to know when he’s been beat. Maybe he realizes we’re not going anywhere, and we’re not backing down, but we still can’t let stand what he did to you.” Ace waves his hand in my direction.
“I’m not looking for revenge. I’m gonna wait and let Viper exhaust himself thinking of ways to take us down. Trying to figure out what we’re up to. Viper wanted to shut me down, but men like him confuse pain with power. I’m not mad; I’m patient.”
“Maybe too patient.”
I lean into the plywood table. “Soon the Kings will have their insignia etched into the top of a thick wooden table, but for now, we handle our shit and just keep moving forward.”
Five years on the inside taught me, if you keep moving, they can’t see your faults, can’t see where it hurts.
“You can’t be too careful,” Shady says.
“Viper reacts, but we make the decisions. Viper needs to hurt people. We hurt people to end problems.”
“What if he runs?”
“He already made his last move. Men like Viper aren’t smart enough to run.” I nod once. “Especially since he was the one who ambushed me and made all the threats.” I plug a smoke between my lips, and Scratch lights me up.
“We just keep doin’ everything on the down-low, and don’t let up on the security at night,” Ace adds.
I nod at Ace’s words. Viper is a devious fucker. Like a snake who strikes when you least expect it.
“Who’s got the first shift tonight?” I ask.
“Me.” Shady throws Ace the fisheye. “And don’t be late to relieve me later.”
“Hey, ain’t my fault Ginger won’t let me go,” Ace says around a smirk.
“Ginger from the Royal Flush?” Shady asks.
“Yeah, why?”
“Let’s just say you might be leaving with way more than you went in with.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Figure it out, asshole.”
Fist screws up his lips. “Ahhhh, shit!”
“Are we done gossiping like little bitches?” I slam down a meat tenderizer I found in the kitchen, and we all file out.
“Hey,” I fall in next to Shady, “I screwed Ginger the first night I was back and . . .”
Shady busts out laughing. “I was just playin’ Ace ‘cause he’s always late for his shift.”
“We’re heading over to the Borgata,” Speed says. “You coming?”
“I’m beat.” I shake my head. “I’m heading upstairs to get some sleep.”
As much as I would give my life for my brothers, sometimes I needed to be alone.
I’d learned to live with my own thoughts even when those thoughts kept me up at night.
I owned the regret, the bad choices, and although I wasn’t there yet, I even tried to forgive myself for fuckin’ up the best MC in Atlantic City.
Loyalty is non-negotiable.
Debts must be paid.
Weakness is tolerated, but betrayal is not.
Prison took from me, but it also gave me an unbreakable endurance. Like the toughest steel, I couldn’t be broken. Maybe ‘cause there’s nothing left to break.
Working on The End and seeing the Kings coming together again gives me purpose. The physical labor grounds me, showing me I survived and am still capable of putting it all back together.
“Yeah, sure.” Scratch gives me a look. “You’re going upstairs, but not to sleep.”
I ignore him and the others with their trash talk and head for the back stairs. Much to my disappointment, I would be going to sleep ‘cause Sammie kept her distance from me like I had the plague.
We discussed the renovations and plans for the bar, but that was it. She even kept at least three feet between us when we talked. I had as much chance of getting her in bed as I did of becoming an upstanding citizen.
I reach the landing and pause to catch my breath. Although I didn’t let on to the others, my bruised ribs still left me winded, but the prez of the Kings can’t afford weakness if we’re to succeed. The End will be ours, and once I claim responsibility for something—or someone—I don’t abandon it.
Which brings my brain back to the dark-haired beauty whose room is right next to mine.
The paper-thin walls allow me to hear her moving around in her apartment, and I wonder what she’s thinking, what she’s doing.
She told me her life story with humor and sarcasm, but her facade didn’t fool me.
I use bluster and intimidation to cover my wounds too. Different ends of the same theory.
I pause at Sammie’s door and listen. Silence, but I know she’s in there.
I can almost feel her presence without seeing her.
She came up hours ago. Since the new appliances came, she spends most of her time in the kitchen.
She obviously likes to cook, but chooses to eat her meals in her room alone every night.
Earlier today, the aroma of homemade sauce traveled all the way to the main room, so I had to investigate. The sweetness of sizzling garlic and onions filled the kitchen, along with the gentle rhythm of her knife as she sliced plum tomatoes.
I smiled at the sight of her unruly curls piled high on her head with a few strays poking out here and there. Her usual baggy jeans and loose t-shirt might hid her figure from the other guys, but it didn’t matter. I already knew the bangin’ body she tried to hide.
I move into the room, but she’s too engrossed to notice. “Smells great, babe.”
She startled, then turned, gripping the knife. “Geez, you scared me.”
“Had to see what smelled so good.” I closed the distance between us and leaned over the pot.
“My mother’s Sunday sauce.” She angled the cutting board and pushed the chopped tomatoes into the pot. “I had Speed do a grocery run for me earlier.”
My mouth watered with anticipation. “Can’t wait.”
“I’m sure with a name like Gianni, you had plenty of Sunday dinners.”
“Not in my house.” I straightened, but stayed close enough to smell her hair—clean with a scent of flowers and citrus. I stepped away from her before my dick reacted. Damn thing had no conscience.
“Here’s the bread.” Speed held up a loaf of Italian bread. “I think that’s everything.”
“Thanks so much.” Sammie graced Speed with a glowing smile, and my gut clenched. Petty, for sure, but shit, why wasn’t that smile directed at me?
Speed leaned over her shoulder, almost touching her, and my jaw tightened. Then he turned to me. “Smells fuckin’ delicious, right?”
I nodded, wanting to wipe the stupid smile off both their faces.
“You need anything else,” Speed squeezed her shoulder, “you just let me know. Especially if you’re gonna cook like this.” He spinned around. “Right, boss?”
“Yeah.” Even I heard the growl in my voice, but of course, Speed is oblivious.
Sammie locked eyes with me, then turned back to the cutting board. When I didn’t move, she looked over her shoulder. “Did you want something else?”
What a fuckin’ loaded question that didn’t have a clear answer.
Sure, I wanted to stick my dick in her again till she screamed my name and begged for more, but it’s worse than that.
Seeing her helping out every day, not afraid to get her hands dirty, showed me another side of her.
Now, cooking what I’m sure will be an outstanding meal brought her to another level.
I didn’t know what level, ‘cause most women in my life never got past the bedroom.
I pointed to the pot now simmering with the tomatoes and all kinds of seasonings. “Is that for tonight?” Stupid damn question, but I’m not ready to leave yet.
“You’ve all been working hard all week, and now that the kitchen is in order, I have to try out these new appliances, so yes.”
“The guys are gonna be thrilled.” I laughed. “I don’t think any of them know what a home-cooked meal tastes like.”
“They deserve it,” she said over her shoulder, then turned back to the stove, and I realized I’ve been dismissed.
Later, she served up the amazing sauce with pasta, fresh grated cheese, toasted garlic bread, and the guys went crazy.
She made sure everyone had enough, and I thought for sure she’d join us, but just like every other night for the last two weeks, she took her plate upstairs to eat in her room, again keeping her distance from all of us.
When she was out of earshot, Ace leaned into me. “Why do you think she leaves every night?”
I shrug. “How the fuck do I know?” Again, I heard the growl in my voice.
“Don’t get your balls in an uproar. Just seems odd.”
It sure the fuck did, and obviously I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Then it pissed me off that Ace noticed too. Yeah, I needed to get my mind off Cinzia Marino.
Then I reminded myself she hasn’t had the best experience with men and, like me, trust didn’t come easy, and usually comes with a price.
Now, I force myself to move past her door when I really want to bust it down and find out what makes this woman tick. Instead, I unlock my own door and survey the small space. Clean, efficient, a place to lay my head. Nothing more, nothing less.
I picked up some cast-off furniture at the Salvation Army, and for now, that will have to do.
Sure the fuck better than my cell in MCC, but still not home.
Our old clubhouse was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a home, but even there I felt alone sometimes.
Even when I had the hottest women in town draped over me.
I pitch my keys on the small table by the door and am just about to toe off my boots when I hear a scream come from Sammie’s room.
Before I register the decision, I grab the gun I have taped under the coffee table.
I check the clip, then bolt out of the room.
My pulse pounds from extreme focus and dread of what lies ahead.
My fist grips her doorknob before I realize it’s locked. When I hear her scream again, I raise my foot and boot the door. It flies open on its hinges, and I charge in, gun drawn.