Love Ties (18 page)

Ever placed her feet carefully as she skirted the outer edge of wood on the stack of pallets. She almost lost her balance and grabbed the top pallet to keep from falling off.

When it broke free and plummeted to the ground, she almost peed her pants.

Heart pounding, she tried to remain focused. Getting caught outside was part of her plan, but now she was wondering if Jamison’s suggestion to pretend her car needed work was better.

As the weapon trained on her, she stopped breathing. Her gaze met the Raider known as Crash.

Of all the guys to greet her with an AK-47, she was glad it was him.

She pushed out an uneven breath.

His eyes widened in surprise—but not shock. No, he knew she was alive. He’d helped her get away from Stone and the club.

He lowered the weapon and then ripped her from her perch on the pallets. Biting off a cry, she fell six feet. Stumbling in the open, she held up her hands, prepared for the shot that never came.

His chest rose and fell. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I have my reasons, but right now I need intel on a man named Middleton. Is he on your payroll?”

A car slowed as it passed the gates. Damn, it was bad being in the open. She had to hurry.

Begging him with her eyes, she held out her hands. “I need to know. They’re going to hurt me if I don’t.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. The prez would shove her out the door, tearing her away from Jamison. That would hurt like a limb being removed.

“Crash, please.”

“I’m not sure what shit you’re mixed up in, but you’re a stupid bitch, thinking you can play two clubs. Stone is out, you know.”

The blood drained from her, leaving her face and fingers numb. She gasped for breath. But his parole wasn’t up for another couple weeks. Maybe her information had been incorrect, and they’d moved the court date.

He was inside the club—maybe a hundred steps away from her.

Her heart leaped, and she shoved down the feeling. She didn’t want him, no. He was like an addiction, though—a bad batch of heroin she had been hooked on before.

Crash trained the automatic weapon on her chest. “Get the fuck out of here before I kill you myself.”

“Middleton—”

“Yessss,” he hissed. Then he lunged forward and shoved her. “Run!”

Ever twisted her ankle but threw herself forward, pushing hard for the gate and the opening she’d slipped through.

•●•

“Holy fuck, she’s coming. Pull up there and I’ll grab her,” Jamison commanded.

Blake peeled away from the curb and barreled toward the place where Ever was shimmying through the gate.

Her face was as white as a sheet, and she was sweating, but Jamison’s heart did a loop-de-loop at the sight of her.

As they neared, he threw open the door, and she lunged for him. He caught her, and her legs trailed out of the open door when Blake gunned it.

She crawled up Jamison’s body, and he yanked the door shut.

In the side mirror he saw the gunman return to the open garage door.

“This is bad. Christ, this is bad.” She plastered her hands to her face and shook.

“Where are we going, boss?” Blake’s voice was too high. With fear?

“Get us the fuck out of this neighborhood. Put us back on Hell’s Sons turf.” He collected Ever against his chest and kissed her face all over. She wasn’t crying, but she was in shock. “What happened in there?”

“He pulled a gun on me.”

“How did you get away?” He gently pulled her hands from her face.

“I-I knew him.”

He sucked in a breath. “You knew a goddamn Raider?”

“Yeah, but he…he wasn’t a Raider when I knew him before. He recognized me and let me go.”

“Hell.” Jamison didn’t like the lines of her past she was drawing. If she was telling the truth—or a version of it—she had worse ties than he’d ever imagined. He had to get Ace on this, but somehow keep him quiet about it. The other guys didn’t need to know, and definitely not Strother.

“Did you get the information?” Blake asked.

She shivered. “Yes. Middleton is working for them.”

Jamison exchanged a look with Blake. Tonight they’d go and find Middleton and end him.

But first he needed to take care of Ever, and he couldn’t do it at the club. He didn’t want to be under anyone’s watch.

“Drop us at the house on Villa Navarra.”

Blake shot him a look. “You sure, boss?”

“I said so, didn’t I?” He cupped Ever’s nape and drew her head down on his shoulder while she trembled.

When Blake let them out in front of her house, Jamison led her up to the front door. A pot of flowers was set in the corner, out of the scorching Alabama sun.

“The key is—”

“I got it.” He pulled his key ring from his pocket and stuck the key in the lock.

She gawked at him. “You stole my keys.”

“No, they’re still in your purse at the club. These are my keys.”

The inside air was a little stale, but the A/C was on. He went through the house, checking every room for intruders. When he found the space to his satisfaction, he took her in his arms.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s just the two of us.”

“I hated doing that, Jamie. Don’t make me do that again.”

“Never. Never, baby. I promise. I’ll challenge any man who makes another suggestion like that.”

“I proved myself. Now I’m going to stake my claim.” She reached up and cradled his face. Emotion burned in her eyes.

He rocked on his heels. “Hell, baby.”

He scooped her up against his chest, and she pointed him to the bedroom. The house was tidy and filled with a mishmash of furniture chosen by the Foxes. What did she like? He had no idea, but he was damn well going to find out. His new goal was to learn everything about Ever.

Right now, though, he didn’t care about anything but being inside her.

•●•

Ever dumped several paper grocery bags on the kitchen table and looked around the empty room. Most of the club members—male and female—were passed out or sleeping off their night of overindulgence.

Not her. She’d already completed a mission for the club, and probably written Middleton’s death sentence.

She threaded shaky fingers through her hair. Being on Raiders turf was scarier than she’d imagined. She’d thought herself a badass who would walk into the club and get the information she wanted.

Now she wasn’t so sure. She’d faked her death to get away from them, and they wouldn’t take that betrayal lightly. Woman or not—they’d want to kill her.

And Stone was out of prison.

Fuck.

She dragged in a deep breath and began to unpack the groceries. When she had the ingredients scattered on the table, she pulled out the folded recipe. She smoothed it on the surface and then went to search for a mixing bowl.

As she worked, measuring sugar and cracking eggs, she let the task calm her. She was safe here, far from Stone, and no one knew about her tie to the Raiders except Blake, Jamison, and the two guys in the back of the van. Jamison would shut them all up, but eventually he’d want more answers about how she knew a Raider.

Damn, her version of the truth theory wasn’t exactly working in her favor.

She mixed in the shortening and whipped the cake batter until it was creamy. Just as she was finding a knife to slit open the baking soda box, Sarah entered.

She looked disheveled and sleepy, and utterly beautiful. Ever smiled. “Long night?”

Something dark moved behind her eyes. She came forward and put her arms around Ever.

Stunned, Ever set down the knife and hugged her back. “Are you okay?”

“Are you making Jamison’s cake?”

“Um, yes. If you think you’re going to change the subject that easily, you don’t know me very well.”

“None of us know you very well, Ever. But we want to.” Sarah let her go and leaned against the counter. Today she wore a lightweight sundress, ultra-short and a blue color that matched her eyes. But her eyes were sad.

Ever studied her a second before grabbing the knife and slitting the baking soda box. “Yes, I’m making Jamison’s cake.”

For several minutes Ever worked while Sarah watched. When she finally spoke, Ever paused with a cup of cocoa powder over the bowl.

“I need some help, Ever.”

She swung her gaze to Sarah’s.

“I’m in trouble.”

Ever dumped the cocoa—cup and all—into the bowl. She planted a hand on her hip. “What is it, honey?”

Sarah dropped her gaze and fiddled with her dress hem, flashing her sumptuous thighs. “This guy…” She shook her head as if unable to force out the words.

Ever stroked Sarah’s forearm. “You can trust me.” What she meant was she didn’t exactly belong to the club yet. She didn’t owe Jamison the truth, though the idea of confiding everything to the man she was growing to care for had appeal.

“This guy is threatening my sister and me. Says he knows shit about our dad that will get him a longer prison term.”

Uh-oh. Ever’s heart jolted with the knowledge that Sarah and her sister were being raised the same way Ever had been.

“How long has your dad been inside?”

“Nine years.” Sarah’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “Our mom took off right after, and I’ve been taking care of Sissy ever since.”

“You’re not very old. That must have been a burden.”

Sarah drew a shaky breath and nodded. “I’m not complaining. Sissy has kept me sane all these years, and the club has supported us. I couldn’t ask for more than that. But…”

“Who is this guy?”

“Says his name is Blacky.”

The name was a shot to Ever’s heart. Blacky was the Raiders’ treasurer according to Barbosa. Her muscles tensed.

“What does he know about your father?” Better yet, why was a Raider holding information over the head of a Hell’s Son? What crazy shit was crossing the lines? In her years with the Raiders, she’d never heard of the rival clubs doing anything but fighting to stay away from each other.

Sarah reached for a chocolate chip spilling from a bag and popped one in her mouth. She chewed slowly, her eyes still watery. “I’m not sure what he wants, but he is making us very afraid. He got to Cassidy—that’s my sister—and threatened her first.”

Heart pounding, Ever asked, “What did he want her to do?”