Head Above Water (Nightshade MC Book 4) (17 page)

“That's like asking him not to breathe, Drea. On some level, I think you knew that he wouldn't just ignore whatever you told him.”

“That's bullshit.”

“Is it?” Casey raised an eyebrow at her. “I don't think so. And for whatever my opinion is worth, I think that you should take his help.”

“It's not that simple.”

“It is that simple, unless you complicate it.”

“It doesn't matter anyway. He said he'd be back and he hasn't been.” Drea shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing I can do about that.”

“You could not be stubborn, you could reach out to him. You know how guys get when their feelings get hurt. They're worse than women could ever be.”

“Maybe it's better this way,” Drea said after a pause.

“Again, I call bullshit. The two of you radiate heat. It's actually mildly disgusting to witness. You're as in love with him as he is with you. It's obvious. So, you need to suck it up, swallow your pride or whatever and call him. Better yet, track him down. See him face to face.”

“Thanks for the advice, Casey, but I don't know. I've got to think about it.”

“You spend too much time thinking.” Casey got to her feet. “Let me know when you decide on what you want for lunch and I'll run out to get it. Do you want me to shut the door behind me?”

“Yeah, and I'm going to pass on lunch, actually. I've got a lot to do.” Drea ignored the look on Casey's face as the woman shut the door behind her.

Once she was alone, she gave up all pretense of working. Was Casey right? Was it as simple as calling Monroe? She missed him; there was no denying the ache in her chest or the sorrow that came when she woke and realized he wasn't at her side. Maybe it had been a subconscious cry for help to tell him about Alton and the payments, but if that was the case, did her subconscious really want to put him in harm's way?

There were more questions than answers, that much was clear.

Drea reached for her phone, dialed Monroe's number and was immediately greeted with the sound of a mechanical voice telling her that there was no mailbox set up for the number. She ended the call, sent a text that simply said hi because she didn't know what else to say. It was the first step, a white flag, and she could only hope that he would take it.

<#<#<#<#

Drea juggled a large pizza from Gino's, her tote bag and the bottle of wine she'd picked up when she realized she was out at home. If she'd had more hands, she'd have definitely grabbed more bottles. It was nearly midnight; the pie in her hand was the last out of Gino's oven. The man himself had walked her to the car and given her a stern talking to about being out so late all alone.

He'd shut his mouth when she'd shown him her gun, but at this moment, it would be hard to get it out in a quick draw. If there was someone in the dark gunning for her, they'd likely get what they wanted. She wasn't sure that she cared anymore. There had been no word from Monroe. She'd told herself, quite sternly, he could be doing Nightshade business and not even seen her call, but it hadn't eased her mind.

Accepting the worst-case scenario was the safest thing to do, and that scenario was that once he'd gotten away from her there was no compelling reason for him to come back.

There was a tingle at the base of her skull as she approached the house. There was a light on inside, the kitchen light. She tried to remember turning it off and couldn't, like dozens of other daily tasks she'd been conditioned to do but not actually remember doing. Drea told herself it was better to be safe than sorry, placed the pizza and beer down on the porch and reached for her gun.

The alarm blipped as she stepped inside. Drea silenced it and moved through the house. Nothing was out of place and no one was there. By the time that she got back to the front door, she felt more than a little silly. She yanked open the front door, more interested in the wine than the pizza at that point, and nearly fell forward at the sight of Monroe standing there, holding both in his hands.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Of course,” Drea answered as she stepped back.

“You want to put the gun away first?”

“Do you really think that I'm going to shoot you?” Drea set the gun down on the table near the door. “I guess you got my text.”

“Actually, I did,” he confirmed as he moved towards the front door. “Figured that you'd be home by now, so I decided just to stop by. You're just getting done with work?”

“I had a lot to do.” Drea elected not to mention the workload was her own fault because she'd taken the days off to avoid the world.

“I've been busy, too,” he informed her. “Are we eating in bed or in the living room?”

“I thought that you were pissed off at me,” she said, not answering the surprising question either way.

“I am pissed at you,” he answered. “I figure you're still a little pissed at me. I also figure that we're both stubborn enough not to back down from being pissed, so we might as well be pissed together. And, you were right, they are pretty much the boogeymen.”

“What?”

“They're really well hidden too, we had to call in favors from other clubs to get the information at all.” Monroe started for the stairs. “Let's eat in bed.”

“I'll get some napkins,” Drea said, surprised that he'd gotten any information about them at all. “Monroe?”

“Yeah, hon?”

“I love you.”

“I know that. I love you, too. We're going to be okay.” He spoke with such confidence that Drea almost believed him; more than that, she wanted to believe him. “Besides, the way I see it, this won't be the last time that we piss each other off.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. “Do you want a beer, or are you going to be swigging wine out of the bottle with me?”

“I'll take beer,” he answered. “You look like you need the wine. It doesn't look like you've been sleeping.”

“Are you saying I look like shit?”

“A little,” he replied with a grin. “You're still pretty hot, though.”

“I have been sleeping. I just...,” she nearly said that she hadn't felt good, but that wouldn't be true. “I missed you.”

His expression softened. “I missed you, too.”

Drea took her time in the kitchen, grabbed plates, napkins and beer. As an afterthought she grabbed a plastic grocery store bag to use for the trash. When she got upstairs, Monroe had straightened out the covers on the bed and placed the pizza in the center. He'd taken off most of his clothes, wearing only one of his pairs of sleep pants. “Where's the corkscrew at?”

“It should be on the dresser,” Drea added the plates and napkins to the bed, set the beer down on the table next to the bed. “Do you see now why going after them is a really bad idea?”

“They're not nice men.”

“No, they're not.” Drea moved over to her dresser, grabbed a nightgown at random.

“How did Frankie find them for the loan? Or did they find him?”

“My Uncle Tony, he worked for them. Frankie's known them since he was a kid,” she replied. It was impossible to miss the surprise on Monroe's face. Of course, any research wouldn't have shown Uncle Tony's connection, it wasn't like they'd kept payroll records.

“Wait, do you know them too? Personally?”

“Not really,” Drea replied. “I met a few of the older guys a couple times.”

“And you're still sure that they wouldn't honor the deal?”

“The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Frankie stiffing them was a real slap to the face. I should have thought of that sooner.” Drea couldn't be sure that she wouldn't have made the same choice with Sarah and the kids hanging in the balance. “I'd probably still be in the same boat, but at least I'd have been more prepared.”

“Have you considered going to them and talking to them? The older guys you said that you knew?”

“The older guys a couple of times, at parties Uncle Tony threw, but I don't know them, not really. If you're wondering why I'm not throwing myself at their feet, begging for mercy, it's because they're not known for being merciful. It would only piss them off.” Drea undressed as she spoke, slipped the nightgown over her head. There was a heaviness to her arms and legs; she pushed down the tired feeling because she knew it was her stress response wanting to kick in.

“I don't want you begging at anyone's feet, that's not an option. I was thinking more along the lines of conversation. But if that's not an option, we'll just need to figure another route.” Monroe watched her with serious eyes.

In the look, she saw how much he loved her. Warmth spread through her. How had she gotten so lucky? “What if we can't figure out another route, Monroe? What then?”

“We will because it's the only acceptable option,” he said, almost sternly. “Don't you go giving up on me now.”

“I'm not giving up on you. I'm just worried that you're going to get hurt, you or someone else. I can't have that on my hands. Especially not you.”

“I'm not going anywhere, Drea, but I think that we should. We should go away, not forever, just for a long weekend. There's this cabin, it belongs to Bones's family. There's a lake and lots of forest for hiking. I think you'd like it. There's a house line, no internet or cell service. It's great. Do you fish?”

“No, I've never fished,” Drea replied warily. The idea of going somewhere where it was just them was tempting. She could only hope that a place without internet or cell service at least had indoor plumbing. “Is there an inside bathroom?”

“Yes, there is. It's always worked perfectly every time that I've been there. As far as fishing, it's easy. You'll get the hang of it in no time. After all, you're a smart woman. A sexy woman, especially in that nightgown. “What do you say?”

“When?”

“Tomorrow, through the weekend.”

“Wait, what? Tomorrow? Are you crazy? I've got a million things going on, a million things to be done. The live chats are this close to happening; I've still got to hire the performers. Tomorrow does not work, Monroe.”

“What about Casey? Can't she handle most of that stuff?”

“She probably could, but I need to be hands-on with this. Last time I wasn't, with Frankie, I could have lost it all. I could be dead right now. Probably I would be.” Fear that he wouldn't understand why she needed to work rolled through her. She wanted to go away with him, but she had to see this through.

“What if we don't leave tomorrow? What if we leave in a couple of days? Could you wrap things up enough to feel like you can go away?”

“That could work. I'll need to work my ass off, but I can do it,” she exhaled. “Are you sure that's okay?”

“I'm sure. Now, let's get to that pizza before it gets cold.”

Drea joined him on the bed, felt a sense of relief that things were easy between them. She'd expected awkward, but it wasn't there. It was just like it had always been. She felt safe. There was a warmth inside her she hadn't realized she'd been missing.

Chapter Twelve

Every single thing about the meet seemed off. Today was the first run for Anzaldi since the robbery, and at the end, they were supposed to be paid in full.

In the interest of safety, Anzaldi had asked them to meet somewhere they'd never been before. None of them could be sure that their former spot, conveniently located near the docks, hadn't been compromised.

This location was more off the beaten path, as remote as it could be. Once, it had been a farm, but now there was just a crumbling barn left of the outbuildings. The house had been burned to the ground long ago. All around were thick woods, which they'd checked as best they could, but everyone was on alert in case they'd missed something. It was very possible that they had. One way in and one way out made it feel like a trap, and that wasn't even getting into the fact that they were doing the exchange right out in the open.

All the hair on the back of Monroe's neck was standing up; tension coiled in his muscles. He didn't realize how obvious it was until Caesar spoke from his side. “Breathe, Brother. Breathe and keep your eyes open.”

“This feels fucked up,” Monroe said, voicing what he'd been feeling for the first time. A quick glance around showed that the feeling was echoed in the faces of his brothers.

“Duly noted,” Buster replied, his tension obvious in his voice. “They've got five minutes and then we're out of here.”

The five minutes were nearly up when another truck came down the road. It was larger than the van they were using, a box truck which would have a roll-up back. Monroe's stomach clenched. It was go time; if there was something wrong, the shit was about to hit the fan. Anzaldi got out of the passenger side of the truck. A large, broad-shouldered man came out of the driver's side. “This is my associate, Tiny.” It was obviously an ironic sort of nickname.

“Where's Ricardo?” Buster called out, hand on his gun.

“Ricardo will not be joining us,” Anzaldi answered as he approached. “It seems he came down with a nasty case of greed. It was terminal.”

“Greed?” Train called out.

“He was part of the team that robbed me,” Anzaldi spat out the words. “Oh, he wasn't on the tape that we all saw because he was smart enough not to be there. He wasn't smart enough to not hide the money in his home. I found it after I looked at all outside threats and decided to look closer to home.”

“Who were the people on the tape?”

“That still remains a mystery. Unfortunately, he passed on before he could tell us more than it was an out-of-town crew.” Anzaldi shrugged his shoulders. “Enough of that unpleasantness. Before we go any further, thank you for meeting me here. I recently acquired this property. I'll be building my home here. A home you will all be welcomed guests in, as you've gone above and beyond to confirm our friendship. I appreciate your patience more than words can say, so, now that my funds are back in order, you'll find double the normal sum in your payment.”

“We appreciate that,” Buster told him. “You only brought one man with you?”

“Among friends, I can't imagine that I'd need more than one. Besides, Tiny is pretty strong, so let's get this show on the road.”

No matter what Anzaldi said, the feeling in the pit of Monroe's stomach still hadn't gone away. It lingered even once the back of the truck was revealed to be clear of anything but a pallet jack. Everything was on the up and up; he waited for relief, but it didn't come, not even when they rode away with their pockets twice as full as expected.

Monroe stewed in how wrong everything felt the entire ride back. They headed upstairs as soon as they got to the clubhouse, even though there were three old ladies in there. Meg, Caroline and Amelia seemed to be planning something, from what he could tell.

They all dropped their phones in a basket on a table in the hallway there for that purpose. Once the door was shut, they took their seats. No one spoke until Buster did. He cleared his throat. “Today went smooth, I wasn't sure that it would. None of us were. We might have reservations about Anzaldi, but today went smooth and we made double what we thought we would. Money isn't everything to us, but it is to a man like Anzaldi. Seems to me the bonus is showing us that we're back to business as usual.”

“Seems to me there was nothing usual about today. Let's see: new location, new players and a half-assed tale of a traitor, oh and the money. Anzaldi is a tight fucker. He's cheaper than Caesar,” Train said with a smirk. Caesar's fondness for saving a few dollars was well known among them.

“I'm not cheap,” Caesar protested. “I'm just careful with my money. But he's got a point, and how do we know that Ricardo was involved in anything? He wasn't heavy on the details.”

“He could be lulling us,” Monroe pointed out. “We go to the meet today, everything is cool. Maybe the next one goes good too, even the third one. It becomes a routine and then boom, hell breaks loose.”

“Or we could have a thousand more meetings and everything goes smooth,” Buster countered. “The story about Ricardo might be bullshit, but even if it is, it's not really our business. Let Anzaldi run his shit and we'll run ours.”

“I'll see what I can do about getting all up in Ricardo's digital life,” Bones offered. “See if he's got anything like a double life. Shouldn't be hard.”

“He'd have to be an idiot to start big spending,” Ace said with a disgusted snort. “Whatever is going on with him, it's not going be online. If he really had the cash in his house, he probably had other stuff, too. We just need to go and take a look.”

“What if someone else is home?” Einstein spoke up. “We know that he wasn't married, but he talked about some chick he was with. We've got no clue if they lived together.”

“Find out,” Buster told him. “I don't have to tell you that we need discretion here.”

“I'm as discreet as they come,” Einstein promised.

“Why don't we just ask Anzaldi how he figured it out?” Manuel asked. “If he's telling the truth and has nothing to hide, he won't take offense to the question. I'm damn sure that he will take offense if he catches us digging into Ricardo without telling him.”

“And if he's not telling the truth, if he has something to hide, we're tipping our hand and letting him know that we've got questions.”

“He's got to know that we'll have questions. Not asking them tips our hand just as much.” Manuel didn't normally go against Buster during a meeting. Monroe wasn't sure if it was because the two men were normally in synch or if Manuel hesitated because he didn't want to seem like he was gunning to lead again.

Monroe could see both sides of the issue, and really, he didn't know which choice was the right one. As everyone began to put in their two cents, he stayed quiet. If there was a vote, as far as he could tell it would be split. He couldn't remember the last time that Nightshade had a split vote; for the most part they were all pretty much on the same page.

“Let's just vote it,” Buster suggested.

Buster, Caesar, Einstein and Bones voted to keep the search from Gagliardi while Ace, Train and Manuel voted to go to the man. The final vote, which would either swing things Buster's way or split them straight down the middle, landed on Monroe. It was an honor that he didn't want. Saying that he didn't know wasn't an option.

“I think we should go to Anzaldi, be straight out about it, so we're right back where we started.”

“We table it, come back to it in a week,” Buster announced. “Vote it again after we've had time to think. Any objection?” No one spoke up. “Alright, I think that's it for now. Monroe, you're heading out, aren't you?”

“Yeah, we're leaving in about an hour,” he said after looking down at his watch. Drea had said that she'd be ready; he hoped it was the case because they really hadn't seen one another in the past few days. She'd been at GP. He'd had two jobs to work on, the Anzaldi drop and his own research into the lenders. “There's no service up there, but I'll check in on the landline.”

“No need for that,” Buster told him. “Enjoy your time alone with your lady. We've got nothing going on that we shouldn't be able to handle.” There was a tone to Buster's voice. Monroe knew that he wasn't happy the cabin trip was going to include Drea. He probably wasn't happy about the vote, either.

The meeting ended after that, and everyone headed back downstairs. Monroe didn't stay to socialize. There were still things he needed to do, like pack and gas up his truck, even though he'd told Drea he was all set to go.

<#<#<#<#

Drea had been ready and waiting when he got to GP. She was animated and excited for about the first half an hour, but then she started yawning. Before they'd been on the road an hour, she was asleep. Monroe didn't try to wake her; she looked as exhausted, and she'd just be grumpy.

It was only when he'd turned off the main road and on to the narrow gravel lane that would lead them to the cabin that he laid his hand on her knee and squeezed. “Wake up, hon. We're nearly there.”

Drea sat up straighter, rubbed her eyes. “How much longer?”

“Look ahead,” Monroe advised.

“Oh!” she gasped as the cabin came into view. “Is that really it?”

“No,” Monroe replied, “I'm just stopping at random cabins.”

“Smart ass.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Don't go sticking that out unless you're going to use it,” Monroe warned. He brought the truck to a stop. “You like it?” Worry that she wouldn't weighed on his shoulders until she smiled and nodded.

“It's beautiful. I've got to admit, when you said cabin, I pictured more of a shack.” She opened the door and got out of the truck. “Do you want me to grab some bags?”

“No, go on ahead.” Monroe reached into his pocket, pulled out the keys. “There's no alarm or anything.”

“You don't need an alarm out here, there aren't any people. Unless it's like those horror movies where mutated cannibals live in the woods.” She shot him a grin. “I'm going to explore.”

The cabin was far from a shack. It was wooden, built by hand by Bones's father and grandfather after the original structure had burned down. They'd increased the size and added a porch on the back that looked out onto the lake which was only about twenty yards away. The woods were about the same distance in the opposite direction; this time of year they were thick with foliage and animals.

Drea was already on the porch, key in hand and a wide smile on her face. It was good to see her relaxed; she'd been on edge when he'd come to pick her up and they'd actually gotten a later start because she'd had to deal with last minute GP business. For most of the ride, she'd slept, which told him that she was more stressed out than she was letting on. He'd find out what was wrong. He made his way to the cabin with the bags in hand. From inside, he could hear Drea exploring the space, exclaiming over the fireplace. If it wasn't so warm, he'd light one just because he thought it would make her smile. There wasn't anything that he wouldn't do to make her smile. “I'm going to assume that you're pleased with the cabin.”

“Pleased is an understatement,” she said with a smile that lit up her face. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“You're welcome, and you don't have to thank me.” It wasn't lost on Monroe that she said thank you for things that other people didn't bother. At first, he'd chalked it up to good manners, but he realized it probably had roots in her childhood. The years before she lived with her Uncle Tony, and most of those after, were still mostly a mystery to him, but he didn't want to push.

“We can swim in the lake, right?”

“We can,” he confirmed with a smile.

“There's fish in there, probably some turtles too,” he warned.

“Fish don't scare me. And I like turtles, they're cute.”

“I guess you've never seen a big ass, angry snapper turtle,” Monroe replied. “We've still got a couple hours of light, if you wanted to, we could go swimming now.” He set the bags down on the couch. “Did you bring a suit?”

“I've got two,” she replied. “Can we really? I've never swam in a lake before.”

“No lake. No beach or boardwalk. Where did you swim?”

“Uncle Tony had a pool. He insisted that I learn because it wasn't safe for me to be out in the yard if I didn't, and he really didn't want to have to fence it in.” Drea began to go through her bag, pushing clothing aside as she searched. “Did you bring a suit?”

“I've got one in here somewhere,” he replied as he tried to remember if he'd actually put one in the bag. Monroe's gut told him that he hadn't. “Or we could forget the suits altogether.”

“You didn't bring one, did you? I bet that you packed in ten minutes before you picked me up.” 

“That's not true, it was more like a half hour before. And so what if I forgot my suit. I'd rather that we skinny dip. There's no one around to see us but the wildlife, and I'm sure that they've seen worse.”

“Okay, skinny dip it is.” Drea abandoned her search, toed off her shoes and began to undress. One of the things that he loved about her was she was never shy about her body. He really loved the sight of her body; her skin always looked sun-kissed, and he knew that it was soft. One of the sexiest things in the world was watching her rub lotion into her bare skin. “Are you going to get undressed or what?” She tossed her clothes onto the couch.