Love Ties (23 page)

“Two,” Franklin said.

“Two of their men killed. And you want a third?” Jamison looked to his prez.

“It’s retribution, man.”

“It’s a fucking death sentence for more men in this club,” Jamison snarled.

Strother spun the handgun. The barrel pointed at each of them as it whirled. It landed on Tommy. Strother pointed a long finger at him. “Is he next? If we let these Raiders believe they can just steal our women and shoot our brothers, they’re going to run us over.”

“No.” Jamison shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ever went to the gates, and they took her,” Ace said quietly.

Jamison’s heart flipped over. “What?” he whispered.

Ace met his gaze, apology there. “Only Blake and I were there. She left the club, we followed her. But she went to the gates, and they took her. Then they jumped into the van and tied up me and Blake.”

Bunky pounded the table again. “This is on the woman!”

“No. No, it’s not. Guys—” Jamison wished like hell he had Blake as his backup man right now.

Strother leveled his gaze at him. “Did you know this?”

“No.”

“Why would she go to their gates?”

“I might know…” O’Dovey scorched bright red.

They all looked at him. He rubbed his hands together, creating a shushing sound. “I think she was doing it for Sweetheart Sarah.”

“Sweetheart Sarah?” Strother said slowly.

“Yeah. I’ve been tailing her, as you all know. Yesterday I heard her talking to Ever in the kitchen. She said there was some guy involved, someone blackmailing her and Sissy. Ever said she’d take care of it.”

Jamison sat back in his chair and raked his fingers through his hair. “Fucking hell.” He knew what he had to do. He pushed away from the table. “I’ll talk to her.”

Strother caught his arm as he passed. Jamison looked down at his prez’s fierce expression. “Find out everything this time. We can’t have this shit going on in our club.”

As he left the room, he felt the tension ease in his brothers. Ever had risked herself to help one of theirs—her move commanded respect. And he’d believed he couldn’t have loved her more.

Jamison searched the clubhouse, but Ever was gone.

•●•

In Ever’s youth, one of the MC guys who had “looked after her” had been a former ecology professor. That meant he was big into Earth Day and taking care of nature. It also meant he did a lot of hiking, and Ever liked going along. He’d shown her a lot of good hiking areas. They’d caught crawfish and turned over rocks looking for fossils.

Ever bent to tie her boots more securely around her ankles. The trail she’d chosen as a way to clear her head was a steep walk down to a riverbed. She glanced at the location of the sun and headed toward the mouth of the trail.

The packed earth trail was well-used and easy walking for the first quarter mile. Then it started down an incline. Birds chattered, and the breeze by the river relieved some of the heat of the day. She’d worn her hair in a ponytail, but her neck was still sweaty.

As she walked, she let her mind blank. Her cares since coming back to Alabama faded, and she gained a measure of peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Off and on during her hiatus from the Life, she’d found this type of peace. Spells of quiet and happiness. Then she’d long for the family she’d lost—that she might have had if her mother had lived—and she wouldn’t be able to think about anything else.

When she reached the bigger rocks on the river bank, she picked her way more slowly, careful not to step between rocks and break an ankle. She’d already twisted it when running from the Raiders, and it was still a bit sore.

The rush of the water greeted her like an old friend. She sank to a rock, warm from the sun, and hitched her knees to her chest. When the shadow fell over her, she didn’t even start.

“I knew you were following me,” she said to Crash.

He sat beside her. “Did you think you could come into our club, wiggle your ass in Stone’s face, shoot up our guys, and walk away?”

“No.” She sighed. “I knew it was only a matter of time before someone came after me.”

He looked at her hard. “What the fuck is your game, Ever?”

“I’m working something out.”

“For who? Those Hell’s Sons?”

“What I told you that day you caught me by the club was true. I needed information on Middleton.”

“And I gave it to you, thinking you’d take it and flee like a good girl.”

She smiled at her old friend. He’d done so much for her over the years, including keeping her secret hidden, but no more. She was out in plain sight.

“When have I ever done what I was supposed to?”

He started laughing. For long minutes, she let his deep chuckles warm her. What a mire she was in. Loyal to two clubs, lying to both. She was really walking a tightrope made of spun sugar. At any moment it could collapse under her.

Crash placed his hand over hers, and she turned her palm up and meshed their fingers. “I need more info, Crash.”

“On?” Over the years he’d gotten a scar over his eye. It split his brow and made him look more dangerous. If she was ten years older, she might have fallen for him instead of Stone.

“A Raider is blackmailing a friend of mine. He’s giving her and her sister drugs to drop off in Heller’s Gap.”

“That’s a serious allegation.” Which he knew was true, judging by his expression.

“It’s Blacky.”

Crash quirked his scarred eyebrow at her. “How are you mixed up in this shit, Ever? There’s another reason you came back from the dead. Tell me what it is.”

She ignored his command. “Blacky has some intel on the father of my friend that will give him the death sentence. So he’s making the girls run drugs for him. This can’t go on, Crash. Help me put a stop to it.”

He twisted his gaze from hers. “Dammit, Ever, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Your mother used to look at me like that—hell, she looked at every guy in the club like that—and we’d fall over ourselves to do what she wanted.”

At the mention of her mom, her pulse spiked. She squeezed Crash’s fingers. “Talk to Blacky and find out what he knows.”

“And then? How am I supposed to make him stop using the girls?”

“I’m sure you can think of something.” She let go of his hand and stood, brushing the seat of her denim shorts. She started walking away.

“Ever.”

She paused and looked at him. He didn’t want to help her, but he’d come here to do just that, whether he knew it or not. “I never thanked you for helping me escape, Crash. You saved my life, and I owe you one.”

He shook his head, a smile coating his handsome, rugged face. “I don’t know if I can make him stop.”

She turned to him fully. “Sure you can. Give him other information to hold over someone.”

For a second, her words didn’t register. Then his eyes widened, and he lowered his head.

“Tell him about me, but make sure it’s in exchange for letting Sarah and Cassidy out of this deal.”

She looked into Crash’s brown eyes for another heartbeat, and then she started back up the trail. He didn’t follow.

•●•

Perspiration rolled down Jamison’s chest and back as he hoisted another round table over his head and carried it off the truck. The ramp led right to the back door of The Gearhead, and he and three guys were busy filling the backroom with furniture to make the gamblers more comfortable. If things went well, tonight their little underground casino would be open for business.

As he passed through the bar, squinting to adjust his eyes between blaring sunlight and smoky bar, he searched for Ever. She was on the same stool she’d been holding down for the last hour. She had a half-full Sex with an Alligator in front of her, and a cigarette burned in a nearby ashtray, but she didn’t put it to her lips.

When she gave him the up-down look, his cock hardened. He responded with the chin nod, and she went back to talking to the female bartender. But her fingers tightened on her glass.

She wasn’t as immune to him as she’d like him to think.

If only she would fucking talk to him. He’d tried pressuring her into giving the information about Sarah, but she’d clamped her jaw and refused. When he’d threatened to withhold orgasm, she’d gathered her shit and tried to leave the MC.

Of course he’d gone after her like some kind of goddamn puppy. He’d carried her back to his room and made her scream his name twice before realizing that was the only information he’d get from her for the time being.

The guys said he was whipped, but he preferred to think of it as biding his time. Eventually he’d get what he wanted from her besides her amazing blow job skills.

Thank God Strother wasn’t putting the pressure on him for that information. Mainly because Trina was in the throes of a nervous breakdown.

The poor woman had lost it following Blake’s death. All the pain and grief over her son resurfaced, and Strother had been with her every minute.

Jamison went into the backroom and set the table down. His calf muscle ached from the hole in it, but he’d swallow a couple pills later, and he’d be fine.

Franklin burst into the room, eyes wild.

Ace jerked his head up, and Copilot gave a short ruff.

“What’s going on, man?” Jamison asked Franklin.

He strode straight to him and turned them so they faced the wall, away from the prying eyes. He fished something out of his waistband.

“Whoa, man, I’m not into cock.” Jamison’s tease fell short as Franklin produced a key of cocaine. “Jesus, Franklin.”

He leaned close, stinking of BO, eyes shifty. “I found some little punk in the alley dealing this shit.”

“A whole fucking key? He didn’t cut it?”

“You can see he didn’t.” Franklin held the rectangle of wrapped cocaine on his palm.

“What did you do with him?”

“I knocked him around a little, held a gun to his head, and he finally gave it to me in exchange for his life. But Jamison…” he looked around to see if anyone was listening, “he said he got it from some chick who lives on 19th Street. Apparently she and her sister deal.”

“19th?” Jamison said slowly, his mind mapping out who they knew on that street. When he stumbled over the names, his mouth fell open. “Sweetheart Sarah and Sissy?”