Jack & Coke (The Uncertain Saints Book 2) (7 page)

Hell,
I
wasn’t sorry.

That didn’t make it any easier to kick a pregnant woman carrying my child out of the house she’d been living in.

I felt nothing for Jennifer. Absolutely nothing.

I felt for the child, though.

I didn’t want my child to suffer because I kicked his or her mother out of the house.

And I was being a coward.

I didn’t know how to tell Annie I was going to let Jennifer stay as long as she needed to.

Annie, I knew, would be fine with me letting her stay.

What she wouldn’t be fine with was letting me fuck her while my ex still lived in my home.

So I had a dilemma.

Griffin made a wide-eyed look when he saw I was on the phone before turning back around to his desk to finish a report.

I rolled my eyes and went back to the conversation I was having with my boss.

“One of the men we brought in yesterday swears that the drugs came from your way. So I want you to be aware that you may have a new supplier in town now that you took out the kid’s source,” my boss, Drew Logan, explained.

A couple of months ago, Griffin and I had lucked out and seized a huge drug shipment all because we’d needed a ride back up the river when the fuel pump in our boat had gone out.

It’d all been very innocent. We had approached a man getting his boat ready to go out on the river but the man had fled, and we did what we did best, we gave chase.

The man had started throwing out things from his pockets, which Griffin had collected as we ran, and we assumed were drugs.

Since he was trying to disappear into the thick of the woods, I’d continued the chase while Griffin had called in a K-9.

Ridley had arrived while I’d apprehended the subject, and Ridley had discovered nearly a thousand pounds of marijuana in his boat.

“Did you get the report on the Coach Purse Kid?” I asked.

“Mmm-hmm. Good work. I’d be interested to know if anything else comes out of that,” Logan said.

I agreed.

Although we hadn’t had any more instances where we found anyone else trying to buy and sell drugs that way.

That, or maybe they were changing the code words or something.

There was no fuckin’ telling.

“Alright,” I said, standing up. “I need to go with Griffin to meet with an informant. I’ll ask him if he thinks a new supplier is in town.”

“Good. Check in tomorrow with what you find out,” Logan said, then hung up.

“What was that about?” Griffin asked once I looked up at him.

I went to the water cooler in between his desk and mine and filled up a glass of water before I answered.

“Long thinks a new supplier is in town because one of the busts the boys in the office did last night said they got ‘em from the river,” I answered.

Griffin looked at me in disgust.

“What the fuck ever happened to transporting actual goods down the rivers instead of fuckin’ drugs and guns? This is a fuckin’ never-ending nightmare,” Griffin grimaced.

I agreed.

And I would’ve commented, but Ridley burst through the doors like his ass was on fire.

“What the fuck?” I asked him.

Ridley’s eyes turned to me.

“Annie was found unconscious about twenty minutes ago outside of her salon. She was taken to the hospital with a suspected brain injury caused by a blow to the head,” Ridley said without preamble.

My stomach clenched, and I lurched out of my seat.

“Which hospital?” I asked, jerking my phone and keys off the desk and shoving them into my pocket.

Ridley gestured to his cruiser.

“I’ll take you.”

I didn’t bother to argue. I just got in and rode, all the while trying not to freak out over my fuck up.

“She suffered some major trauma to her right temporal lobe from where the piece of wood struck her across the side of the head,” Dr. Mack gestured to his face. “I can’t tell you now what kind of effect that’s had on her since there’s so much swelling. Only time will tell.”

I watched as the doctor explained all that was wrong with Annie to the people who I guessed were her parents and sister.

I was further back, listening in because that was the only way I’d hear exactly what was wrong with her.

Since I wasn’t family, I technically wasn’t allowed to be in her room at this point, but I was beyond caring.

Slipping away just as silently as I came, I made my way to her room, then slipped inside without anyone the wiser.

My heart sank as I saw Annie lying on that bed.

Her head was wrapped in white gauze, and what little I could see of her face and eyes were also bruised.

Every last bit of it.

There wasn’t any unbruised skin on her entire face.

My hands rose, and I grabbed onto my head, trying to breathe through the pain that was ripping through my chest.

I closed my eyes, opening them once I thought I had enough control to get closer to her.

And that’s when my eyes lit on the note.

I’d been curious when the doctor explained about it while he was telling her parents what had happened, asking about the significance of the note.

The note that Annie had refused to give up—the whole time they were working on her in the ER—was in a baggie next to her bed.

Once she’d been sedated she’d finally loosened her grip enough for the doctor to remove it.

It was in a plastic bag with the rest of her belongings, but I could read it clearly.

Before, you were just a passing fancy. A way to keep my ear to the ground.

Now, I’m watching you.

I don’t like being threatened.

Even more, I don’t like people I trust throwing me under the bus.

Your wife will be next if you pursue this. Be thankful that I didn’t kill the bitch. Better watch yourself and yours.

I’m coming.

And I won’t stop until I’ve taken everything you have ever loved.

I wanted to vomit.

It wasn’t signed, but I knew who it was from.

Liam Cornell.

Annie had been bashed over the head with a fuckin’ two by four all because I wanted to approach the fucker I thought was fucking my wife.

I’d done this.

“Mig,” Annie’s raspy voice called.

I turned to her quickly, seeing one of her eyes just barely open.

I leaned down until she could see my face, then grabbed her hand that was resting on top of the blankets.

“Hey, baby.”

Annie smiled slightly.

“It’ll be okay,” she promised.

I wanted to cry.

Was it acceptable for a thirty-four-year-old man to cry? Because, right then, I wanted to.

Here I was, responsible for this happening to her, and she was trying to comfort me.

God, what had I done?

She’d been by me all this time.

I’d wasted so much time trying to make my life with Jennifer bearable, even though I wanted nothing more than to be with the woman next door.

I’d given it six months.

I even considered that I might be able to get over Jennifer’s manipulation, for the sake of our child, a child I had a part in creating, willingly or not.

This child had no control over the circumstances of its conception

They had no control over anything.

They were defenseless human beings that deserved to be protected.

And the more I listened to my friends, recalling all of the bad things that I’d experienced over the last six months, I knew that I would never be able to offer my child even resembling a loving, stable home with Jennifer in the picture.

My kid didn’t need to know how much I despised Jennifer, but it would be impossible to conceal if I had to see her and deal with her shit on a daily basis.

But right then, with Annie’s hand in mine, and her bruised puffy face staring back at me with understanding in her eyes, I realized that I couldn’t do
this
.

I couldn’t bring Annie into my life…not when I led a life that wasn’t for the faint of heart.

I’d nearly gotten her killed with my need to have the element of surprise when I approached the bastard.

Something I’d done at Annie’s expense.

Annie, who was such a beautiful, strong, caring woman.

Annie who’d helped me realize that I couldn’t live with Jennifer for the rest of my life.

Annie who deserved much better than me.

She deserved a home with two point five kids. A husband that worked nine to five.

And I wasn’t that.

I’d never work nine to five.

I hadn’t wanted kids at all, but life didn’t ask me what I wanted.

But I sure as fuck could make sure that I didn’t bring this shit to Annie’s front door anymore.

That, I had the power to do, and from this moment on, I would stay away from her.

Dildo: the original selfie stick.

-Uncertain Pleasures T-shirt

Annie

“Stubborn, pig-headed, heart breaking, man,” I muttered to myself as I walked into the back of my store.

I glared at the new lock, as well as the brand new alarm that’d appeared as if by magic.

I knew it was Mig, though.

Even though I hadn’t seen him—not once—in a month, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was responsible.

Hell, he wasn’t even living in his house, either.

His ex-wife was, though.

And I felt awkward as hell living in my house, so I’d put it on the market.

I’d also secretly hoped it would bring Mig out of the woodwork, but it hadn’t worked.

Now I was back in my store’s apartment much to, what I guessed was, Mig’s chagrin.

Hence why I now had an alarm system, what I guessed to be a high tech security camera system, as well as a biker bodyguard that never introduced himself.

After talking with Lenore, though, I realized that the biker bodyguard was a ‘prospect’ or someone trying to get into the club.

I hadn’t realized the Uncertain Saints were even looking for someone to add to their club, but I learned new things every day.

Kind of like Lenore being Griffin’s ‘old lady.’

I hadn’t even realized there were such things as old ladies.

But after being informed by Lenore that old ladies were like the wives of the biker world, I realized that I really, really wanted to be one.

I just had to figure out where Mig was first.

Which was where I was going now.

According to Lenore, my partner in crime, Griffin and Mig worked in the same building.

And I had a legitimate reason to be there and ask for Mig’s help.

I was rethinking my decision to go two minutes later as I drove down the road to the office Lenore had given me directions to this morning as I’d done her hair.

It didn’t look like a DEA or Texas Ranger headquarters.

Not that I really had anything to go by.

In fact, I sat studying it so long that I didn’t realize there was someone at the front of my car until they tapped on the hood.

I jumped, turning to find a glaring Mig at the front of my car.

And he did
not
look happy to see me.

Gathering what little courage I had, I got out of the car slowly, very aware of my head.

I still got head rushes when I went from sitting to standing quickly.

Then my head would start hurting for hours.

So I learned the hard way to do it slow, or else.

“Hey,” I whispered.

I also learned that if I talked too loudly, that it seemed to jar something in my brain, making my head hurt.

Then again, loud noises, sudden movements, and chewing made my head hurt...it didn’t take much.

His eyes narrowed on me, studying me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

“What are you doing here?” He rasped.

God, his voice!

It made shivers run down my spine, and my toes curl.

“I have something to show you…and run by you,” I said.

And I did.

I never realized just why my husband had tried to break into my house that night a month and a half ago.

It wasn’t until I moved my things back into my store that I realized the coincidences.

I walked around the car, passing right by him to get to my right back passenger seat.

I didn’t question why I chose to go the front way that took me by him instead of around the back that was faster.

I could’ve sworn that he’d growled as I made my way past him.

But he didn’t say a word, and neither did I.

Instead, I reached in for a huge box of junk I’d managed to pick up without breaking my head, and turned.

I froze when I saw how close Mig was to me.

He had to be standing only inches away from me, and the only thing separating us was the box in my hands.

“What is it?” He rumbled.

Then I was divested of my box, and he was walking across the street without another word.

I followed behind him, going at a much slower pace than him.

I hadn’t been able to work out since I’d been hurt.

Yet again, the moment blood started to really work through my body, and my heart rate started to rise, a headache would be soon to follow.

But, it turns out, watching Mig’s ass in his tight jeans made my blood pressure rise…and wouldn’t you know it, a headache started to thud dully behind my eyes.

Well, that sucked!

I slowed down even more, allowing a large distance to separate the two of us, hoping that if I slowed down my head wouldn’t get into the full blown kill-me-now range.

And surprisingly, it worked.

Mig’s scowl as he held the door open for me had me rethinking the decision, though.

“What’s wrong?” He asked once I reached his side.

I gently shook my head from side to side.

“Headache. Nothing I can’t handle,” I said, slowly passing between him and the doorframe he so kindly held open for me.

He grunted as I passed by him, and my eyes nearly crossed as my front brushed against his.

The first person I saw when I entered the room was Griffin and his bright blue, knowing eyes.

I waved, and he winked, returning to his phone conversation without even a hello.

Mig brushed past me and said, “Over here.”