Logan: New Crusaders MC (6 page)

“He’d want more,” Logan said.  “Pretty thing like you.  He’d want way more than info.”

“I have to save my father,” was all she said.

Anger burned in Logan’s chest.  Not at her, but at the people who had put her in this position.  Her father had been a selfish bastard to leave her with this mess.

“Give me until tomorrow to see what my guys found out,” he told her.  “You don’t need to sell your body to Wiseman.  I’ll get Chuck.”

Her face lit up.  “You will?”

He nodded.  “Just sit tight for now.  Don’t get yourself into more trouble.”

“Okay.”

Logan zipped up his pants and looked around.  The apartment was small, but comfortable.  She’d be safe for the time being, though he didn’t like the fact that Clay knew how to find her here.  He was going to have to keep an eye on the oily waiter.

“I gotta go,” he said.

“Yeah.”

She looked away from him, her eyes sad.

He readjusted his kutte and left the apartment.

Yance and the prospect had probably already accumulated some information.  Or he hoped they had.  By the next day, he was going to have to make a decision about the Kings.  And then he was going to have to bust Chuck Hamilton out of the Iconoclasts’ warehouse.

Nicole sat down right where she was, leaning back against the kitchen counter and hugging her knees to her chest.  She felt satisfied and sleepy, but now that Logan was gone some of the old worry was creeping in on her again.  For now, all she could do was trust that Logan would help her father.  She sluggishly moved off the floor and into her bedroom.  Within seconds she was fast asleep.

The next morning, she woke up and checked the time.  Her waitressing shift didn’t start until that afternoon, but she needed to get into the diner to do some of the boring financial stuff.  Plus, it was a Saturday.  Kelli and Clay might have their hands full, and she knew she should offer help.

She slipped out of bed and took a long, hot shower.  While she washed old sweat off of her, she remembered the feel of Logan’s lips on hers, his body filling her.  Just the thought of it raised goosebumps on her arms.  She finished showering in a hurry and got into her work uniform.

When she got to the diner, Kelli and Clay were busy, but not overwhelmed.  She slipped into the office and booted up the old computer.  It was a good thing Chuck had taught her everything there was to know about running this place.  She smiled a little as she remembered sitting on his lap when she was younger, watching him type numbers into a spreadsheet.

She remembered her mother walking into the office, her red hair pulled into a messy bun, a white apron tied around her waist.

“They need you in the kitchen, baby.”

“Sure,” Chuck said.  “Can you watch Nicky?”

“Of course.  Come on, hon.  You wanna help mommy get some good tips?”

Nicole had enthusiastically agreed, following her mother around the restaurant, scribbling on a spare notepad with a red crayon like she was taking orders.

Sure enough, her mom had made some great tips that night.  Just like she always did when he had Nicole tagging along.

Nicole tried to hold on to the good memories of her mother – before the accident – but it was hard.

A knock at the door saved her from the storm cloud of negative thoughts that was coalescing around her.  She looked up to see Clay standing in the doorway.

“You need help out there?” she asked.

“Nah, it’s dying down now,” he said.

“Okay.”

She waited for him to say something, but he just stood there staring at her.  It made her feel supremely uncomfortable.

“Was there something you needed?” she asked when she could bear the silence no longer.

“Just to talk,” he replied, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him.

“What about?” she asked, glancing nervously at the closed door.

“The New Crusader who keeps coming in here,” he said.  “What’re you doing with him?”

“Nothing,” Nicole said. “We just talked a couple times.”  She frowned, realizing that she didn’t owe Clay an explanation.  “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You did more than talk,” Clay accused, stepping closer.  “I saw the way two you were looking at each other.  You were
discussing
not talking.  What were you asking him to do?”

“Why do you care?” Nicole snapped, standing up.  “I told you, it’s none of your business.”

“You have always been my business,” Clay said, getting closer.

“You are insane,” Nicole said.

She made a move to get around him so she could get out the door, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.  She opened her mouth to ask him what the hell he was doing, and he took the opportunity to kiss her, shoving his tongue inside her mouth.  Nicole stumbled backward, away from him.  He advanced on her again, not taking the hint, so she slapped him.  Clay’s retaliation was quick.  The back of his hand connected with her face, and he slammed her against the wall so hard her forehead knocked against it.  Dazed, Nicole could barely struggle as he pressed himself against her back, trapping her between his body and the wall.

“Fight it all you want,” Clay said.  “Your ass is mine, even if you don’t know it yet.”

As if to prove his point, he reached down and squeezed her there, too hard.  It hurt.

“Clay, get off of me,” she said through gritted teeth.  “I can’t breathe.”

Tears were leaking steadily from Nicole’s eyes, despite her best efforts to blink them away.  His hands were roaming her body freely, despite her protests and her struggles against him.

“If I see that Crusader prick in this diner again, I’ll kill him,” Clay whispered.

“You’re no match for Logan,” Nicole seethed.

“The asshole isn’t bulletproof,” Clay responded.

“You can’t hurt someone here.  You’ll ruin everything.  Hamilton’s is neutral territory.”

“Things are changing,” Clay told her.  “I’m not concerned about the diner’s neutral status.  When the dust settles, I’m going to take what’s mine.”  His hand clutched her between her thighs and Nicole let out a strangled noise.

“Clay, don’t.”

“You can’t fight it, darling.  Better to accept it.”

There was a gun in the top drawer of her dad’s desk.  Nicole wondered if she could get away from Clay long enough to get it.  But then he pulled away from her.

“Until later,” he promised.

She stayed where she was, panting against the wall, long after she heard him leave the room.  In that moment, when she was terrified and hurt, all she wanted was to feel Logan’s arms around her.  But Logan wasn’t there.

She wasn’t safe in her own diner.

She was losing everything.

Logan was liking his current position less and less.  He listened silently as Yancey reported on what he and the prospect had found out.

Zeke hadn’t been at the Rust Bucket the night he’d been killed.  None of the bartenders had seen them, and a few of their regular customers had corroborated it.  After doing some digging, Yancey had discovered that Zeke was putting it to his old lady until about midnight, at which point he’d gone to buy some smokes.  The owner of the minimart had confirmed that he’d seen a guy tailing Zeke out of the place, but he hadn’t seen a face.

Which meant that Zeke had been killed and moved onto Crusader turf. 

That still didn’t explain why he’d been left in a Dumpster.  If the prospect hadn’t found him there, they would never have thought to look.  He could have rotted for weeks before they discovered his body, if they even did.  Once the trash got taken out, they would have been lost.

So why leave him there?

Why hide him?

Logan exchanged a look with Cork.  It was possible that the killer had moved the body to Crusader territory because it was the most familiar, because he knew where to find a Dumpster.  Cork’s expression said he was thinking the same thing.

There could be a traitor among them.

“Who stood to gain from Zeke’s death?” Logan asked the room.

“Wiseman and Ruiz,” Sam said immediately.

“I don’t know about Wiseman,” Logan said.  “He and Zeke had a good enough relationship.  We even sell the ‘Clasts guns when they need to protect their shipments.”

“Ruiz,” Cork said.

“Yeah, he’s still at the top of my list.”

“There’s someone else who hasn’t been mentioned,” Yancey said.

“Who?” Logan asked.

Yancey didn’t need to say anything.  His look said plenty on its own.  Logan jumped to his feet.

“Are you accusing me of something, Paul Yancey?” he roared.  “You think I plugged one of my brothers in the back of the head?  Tossed him out like trash?”

Yancey didn’t speak.

“Say it!” Logan yelled, slamming his fists on the table.  “I know you’re thinking it, so say it!  Accuse me of betraying this club and my brothers!”

“Fine,” Yancey said.  “I accuse you of killing our president, of betraying this club for your own selfish reasons.”

Cork’s chair clattered to the floor as he got to his feet to support Logan.

“Logan didn’t campaign for VP,” Cork said quietly.  He didn’t need to raise his voice; he had the room’s attention.  “He earned that patch.  Just like he earned his kutte, and my respect.  Like his father.  You accuse him of betrayal, you accuse me, too.”

“No one’s accusing you of anything,” Yancey said.

“Then shut the fuck up,” Cork growled.

Yancey looked like he wanted to say more, but he was silent.  After staring at Cork for a few seconds, he finally settled back into his seat.

Logan looked around at the other men in the room, making eye contact with each and every one of them.

“If the Devil Kings
were
behind this, then we are playing right into their scheme,” he said quietly.  “This is what they want.  They want us turning on each other, losing our trust.  That makes us weak.  Vulnerable.  I don’t want that, do you?”

There was a general murmur of agreement.  Cork retrieved his chair and sat back down.  Logan remained standing for the moment.

“I’m not your president,” he said.  “I’m not even sure I wanna be.  But right now, I’m acting president.  You gotta trust me to make the right decisions for this club.  Can I ask that much of you?”

“We’re with you, Logan,” Sam said.  “What’s our plan?”

“I’m going to break Chuck Hamilton out of the Iconoclasts’ warehouse,” Logan stated.  “I want to do it quickly and without calling attention to our club.  I’ll need a couple volunteers to come with me.”

“I’ll go,” Sam said.

“Me, too,” Danny piped in.

“You sure you’re up for this, prospect?” Logan asked.

Danny gave him a shaky nod.  “I’m in.”

“Alright, kid.  Let’s do it.  Next order of business is our shipment of guns, going out tomorrow night.  We need as many bodies on this as possible, in case something goes wrong.  Call me paranoid, but I think we need to keep extra protection on our gun shipments for a while.”

“Not gonna call you paranoid,” Cork said.

“Good to hear.  We have a truck leaving day after tomorrow, and we’re meeting it out of town, after the weigh station.  Who’s in?”

“You know I am,” Cork told him.

“I’ll go, too,” Yancey said.

“You sure, brother?” Logan asked. 

He gave Yancey a look so that he’d understand Logan was asking if Yance was sure about
everything
. 

“I’m sure,” Yance said.

“Alright.  That makes me feel better.  The rest of you, keep on going like normal, but keep your eyes and ears open for anything unusual or suspicious.  I want to know what those goddamn Kings are up to.”

Everyone agreed to the plan, and Logan called an end to the meeting.

He pulled Sam and Danny aside and told them to meet him back at the clubhouse at ten.  He also told them what to wear and what to bring. 

Then he went to work a shift at Sinsations, a Crusader-owned strip club. 

What he really wanted to do was see Nicole, but the club had to earn straight at least some of the time.  He was lucky that one of their few legit businesses happened to be a strip club.

He let himself in the backdoor of the club and waved to a couple of the other bouncers.  Then he went out front to check out the scene.  The club was just opening, and it was still light out, so it wasn’t very busy.

“Hey, Logan,” said Desiree, one of their top earners.  She came up behind him and ran her hand over his shoulder.  “You seem tense, baby.  Everything alright?”

“Everything’s great,” Logan said, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.  “You are gorgeous as always.”

She offered him a million-dollar smile.  “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said.  Then, standing on her toes so she could lean in and whisper in his ear, she added, “I don’t go on stage for another half hour.  You want to keep me company?”

“Wish I could, sweetheart, but I’m on the clock.”

She pouted.  “Too bad.”

“Maybe some other time.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, before sauntering away.

Logan watched her go.  He was long done with Desiree.  They’d hooked up a few times.  She was a good lay, but nothing special.  And for some reason thinking about having sex with her just made him think about Nicole.

Nicole had been more than a good lay.

She had been hot and tight.  He had loved the way she’d dug her nails into him ever so slightly, wrapped her legs around him.  Most of all, he liked the way she looked at him with pure trust in her eyes.  She wasn’t scared of him.  Not anymore.  He’d only gone over to her place to get information from her, maybe put the fear of God in her.  Instead he’d gotten something he hadn’t bargained for.

He wanted her.

Not just for a night, he realized.

Why else would he be risking his neck for her father?

He spent his shift watching what was happening on stage without really seeing it.  He kept his kutte on while he worked, so the customers would know not to mess with him or his girls. 

They had one incident toward the end of the night.  A guy grabbed hold of one of the girl’s ankles, nearly pulled her off the stage.  Logan was on him within seconds.  The guy was piss drunk, so he tried to take a swing at Logan.  He was easy to take down.  Logan threw a punch into the guy’s gut, then dragged him out to the sidewalk, throwing him down.

“Don’t let me catch your drunk ass in here again, you get me?”

“Yeah,” he wheezed.  “I get you.”

The rest of his shift had gone quickly.  Before he knew it, Mike was there to relieve him.  It was time to go break into Iconoclast territory and steal a hostage.

Danny and Sam were waiting for Logan in the clubhouse.  They were wearing black clothes under their kuttes, and they had ski masks shoved into their pockets.

“You ready for this?” Logan asked.

“You bet,” Sam said.

“If this goes south, if Wiseman figures out I was the one who broke Chuck out, then that protection deal is out the window.”

“Then we better not get caught,” Sam told him, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Fair enough.  Let’s ride.”

They went out to their bikes.  Logan and Danny mounted theirs while Sam got into one of the club’s vans.  They would need it to transport Chuck back to safety.

Logan took point as he led the other two to the outskirts of Castillo.  He was pretty sure he could get in and out of the backroom of that warehouse pretty quickly.  He had some bolt cutters with him for the fence.  If he made a small enough hole, the Iconoclasts might not even notice it.

They stopped their bikes and the van, and shut them off about a half mile from the warehouse.

“Masks on,” Logan said.  “You got the firecrackers?”

“Right here,” Sam whispered, pulling them out of his backpack.

“How about the weed?”

“Yeah, we got it,” Danny said, laughing nervously.

“Get that look out of your eyes, Sam.  You’re not smoking that shit tonight,” Logan said.  “I want you to light the joints before you start setting off the firecrackers.  Move around.  Make sure they can smell it.  With any luck they’ll think it’s some stupid kids pulling a prank, when they get a second to think about it.”  He nodded at the firecrackers.  “How many you got?”

“Three strings.”

“Okay, as soon as you light the first one, run.  Take the joints with you when you light off the second one.  Stub ‘em out and leave them with the last string of firecrackers.  I want the Iconoclasts to find them.  Try to put exactly two minutes between each string, and move to a new location each time.  That should buy me enough time to break in and drag Chuck out of there.  You got it?”

The other two nodded, though Danny looked a little nervous.

“Look, most of these buildings are abandoned,” Logan told him.  “You won’t be hurting anybody, especially not this late at night.  You can shout a little bit when you think you’re in the clear, get the guards’ attention, but make sure you have a hiding place in mind before you do anything.  Go now.  Get the joints lit.  I want the first firecrackers going off in five minutes.  I’ll use the noise to cut the fence and break the door.”

Danny and Sam disappeared into the darkness, pulling their ski masks on as they ran, keeping their heads down.

Logan gave them a minute head start, then ran down the road toward the warehouse.  He stopped outside the fence and looked around.  There were some silhouettes at the front of the building, maybe two men.  He knew there would be more inside, guarding Chuck.  All he could do was hope they’d leave when they heard the firecrackers.  The windows were mostly dark, but there was at least one light on inside the building somewhere.  He hoped it would be enough to see by.