Torn (9 page)

“Yeah,” I heard him bellow down, followed by
his loud clompy boots coming down the stairs.

“Any chance you might be able to turn your
shirts right side out before you throw them in the hamper?” I
glared as I turned yet another shirt before folding it. “I hate
laundry and this just slows me down and drags this shit out.
Because if not I’m folding inside out.”

“Damn, you’re in a mood today,” he
muttered.

“What?” I asked, whipping my head around to
his direction.

“Nothin’.”

“Sorry. I know I’m being a little moody.
These damn hormones. I feel like I have no control over my own body
sometimes.” Great, now I was crying.

“Babe.” He pulled me to his chest. “It’s all
good.” He kissed my forehead then went downstairs.

Ruger was lying in the hallway as I passed by
the nursery on my way down to the kitchen. “Come on, boy, let’s get
you outside.” It turned out to be a beautiful day. The sun was
shining and there was a nice breeze, making seventy degrees feel
more like sixty.

When I came back in, Jaxon was waiting in the
kitchen, looking even hotter than usual with his new haircut and
less beard.

“I’ve gotta run to the clubhouse and check
in. I’ll be back in a little while.” He kissed me lightly as I
watched Ruger flipping a deflated football around in the
backyard.

“Be careful, please,” I whispered, almost
holding my breath. I had never worried about him leaving and not
coming back, until now.

“Babe.” He gave me that look.

“Jax.” I gave him my version of
that
look. “Don’t pretend you didn’t get shot three
weeks ago.”

“Relax, babe, I’m just goin’ to the
clubhouse. I told you my cover’s intact, nothin’ to worry
about.”

“I love you.”

“Love ya too. See ya in a few hours.”

Chapter Ten

Jaxon

I pulled out of the driveway on my bike for
the first time in three long, grueling weeks. Driving west toward
the clubhouse, I felt freer than I had in a long time. I loved
Leila to death, but being cooped up in the house with her hovering
over me almost drove me fuckin’ insane. Plus, being so close to
giving birth she was nesting or whatever they called it. She meant
well, and I could see she was worried about me. Fuck, the whole
situation was messed up and it scared her, but I still had a job to
do.

Pulling off I-26 onto Cosgrove Avenue, I
stopped at a gas station and grabbed the burner cell hidden in my
bike.

“Yo, it’s me. I’m on my way to the clubhouse.
Is everything in place?” I asked Tommy, my handler.

“Everything is set up and ready to go. We
will wait on you to get there and give ya about fifteen minutes
before we hit the place. You’ll be detained just like everyone
else. I hope like hell you know what you’re doing, Jax.” His smooth
voice echoed doubt.

“Just find Drill, he has to go down in this
bust. I’m starting to think he suspects someone within the club is
leaking information back to the cops.” I scanned the adjacent area.
“And that guy’s psycho so there’s no tellin’ what he might do.”

Hanging up, I climbed back onto the all black
Fatboy. I slipped the phone back into the hiding spot within the
Shadow Rocket’s frame, revved her up a few times, and took off
toward the clubhouse.

Once I parked and entered the bar area, I
sidled up to the bar and checked my watch. It was 4:23. Scanning
the room, I took a quick roll call in my head. Mark, Viper,
Barrett, Dig, Stretch, Rip, Axel, and Crazy Bart were all here, but
no Drill.

Kat was behind the bar and practically purred
as she approached. “Remi, my love. Where have ya been? I heard you
got shot and then we haven’t seen ya around. I was worried my best
fuck was gone.”

Sighing heavily, I took the bottle of Bud
Light she offered. “Hi, Kat, I’m fine and I’ve told you, we’re
done. We’ve been done for a long time. I’ve gotta old lady now and
she ain’t you. Now, just stand back there, pass out beers and shut
the fuck up. I don’t have the patience to deal with your damn
mouth.”

“God, you always did know how to be a prick,
didn’t ya?” she sneered just before slithering back down to Rip and
Crazy Bart at the other end of the bar.

“You good?” Viper pulled out the barstool
beside me and sat down.

“Yup.” I took a long pull from the ice-cold
beer. The icy goodness slipped over my taste buds with a sudsy
awakening. “Damn, that tastes like fucking gold, dude.”

Viper chuckled then patted me on the back.
“Gonna go make myself look busy. Check ya later.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” The president’s voice
carried over all of the conversations, music and even the moans
coming from the dark booths. “Our vice president is alive and well,
boys. I see the old lady finally letcha out the house.”

Standing, I walked toward Mark, beer in hand.
When I reached him, he pulled me in for a hug, patting me hard on
the right shoulder.

“Easy, bro, still healin’ and all.” Shrugging
away, I pulled out a chair from a nearby table.

“My bad, man.” Mark sat down next to me.
“Kat, beer and Jack.”

“Leaning my elbows on the table, I whispered,
“So what’s happenin’? Figure out what the fuck happened with the
buyers?”

“Hang on.” Mark took the Bud Light and shot
of Jack Daniels from Kat. “Thanks, Kat, now make yourself
scarce.”

Kat turned and strutted her mini jean
skirt-covered ass back to the bar, clicking away in her ugly-ass
hooker heels. Kat wasn’t an ugly chick, hell, I had banged her more
than my fair share when I was single, but she got clingy fast. Her
bleached-blonde hair was halfway down her skinny back, but was no
longer soft and curly like it once was. No, now it was dry and like
straw. She used to think that one of the brothers would make her
his old lady one day, but she let herself go. To be fair to her,
she probably could be an old lady to Crazy Bart, Stretch, or Dig.
They weren’t exactly easy on the eyes or had women throwing
themselves at any of them.

“So the buyers, that was yet another one of
Drill’s fuck-ups. He brought us these low-level piece-of-shit
bangers from the goddamned hood. I swear if I can prove that he was
behind this shit, Rem, I’ll skin him alive, like the fuckin’
traitorous no-good piece of dog shit deserves after sellin’ us
out,” Mark gritted out through clenched crooked teeth.

“Where is he anyway?” I tried to ask without
seeming too obvious.

“Don’t know. Haven’t seen him since
yesterday. He was actin’ all squirrely and shit.” Mark scanned the
room. “But I think I know why. He came into the office and I was on
the computer. I don’t know if he thinks I was lookin’ at the books
or what.”

I glanced down at my watch as I raised the
beer bottle to my lips: 4:34. They should be coming through any
minute. “Did you find anything in the books?”

“Who me?” He threw back the shot of whiskey.
“That shit looks like hieroglyphics to me. They are just pages of
spreadsheets with numbers and calculations on it, doesn’t make any
sense. Nah, I was online lookin’ for parts for the old Harley I’m
fixin’ up.”

“We need to get someone in here who can tell
us exactly what he’s done and where to find the money. I still
think you need to call his ass out.” I set the beer bottle down
onto the stained, wooden round tabletop.

“Once we have a handle on where the money
actually is, then we’ll deal with him. If he figures it out first
he might move it and we might never find it. No. We will wait.”
Mark looked up at me. “No one else needs to know about this, just
you and me. Got it?”

“Yeah, brother, I got it.” I stuck my hand
out to shake his. As his palm met mine all hell broke loose.

The Feds breached the solid steel front door
by ripping it off its hinges and dragging it through the parking
lot. Wood splintered and flew around the two other doors accessing
the main room of the compound.

“FBI, DEA, no one move. We have a warrant to
search the premises and detain all of you. Hands behind your head
and interlock your fingers.” Most of the agents wore face masks to
shield their identity, but the man barking the orders out was
wearing black fatigues and it was none other than Commander Bob
Gorden.

“Motherfuckin’ son of a bitch,” Mark barked
as the brothers all looked to him for approval to submit to the
orders of a man who just burst into their clubhouse. With a slight
nod from our president, we all reluctantly placed our hands behind
our head.

“I knew that fucker Drill would get us jammed
up,” I cussed him, playing my part. “No-good piece of shit. If he
would just do his fuckin’ job and stop tryin’ to bring us these
shitty-ass buyers, I wouldn’t have gotten shot and we wouldn’t all
be gettin’ arrested right now.”

“Shut it, Remi. Not another word,” Mark
warned quietly as two agents walked our way with zip ties. “He’s
still a brother and we’re handlin’ his fuck-ups, not these
pricks.”

All eyes were on us as the agents grabbed our
wrists and maneuvered them into place then bound our hands together
with the flex cuffs.

“I’m armed. Pistol in the back waistband,” I
informed the agent before he freaked out. My UC status was
classified and these asswipes surely weren’t in the loop. Sure,
they probably knew there were agents undercover, but who was a
different story.

“I want this place searched room by room.
Now,” Gorden yelled to the agents as they scattered like
cockroaches when the lights are turned on. I’ve only dealt with
Gorden a handful of times, but he was a ruthless prick. He was an
old-school guy. His meaning of “by the book” was someone getting
the shit beat out of them with a phone book.

“Boss,” the runty voice hollered from the
hallway, “we found the office. You need to see this shit.”

Chapter Eleven

Leila

Ruger and I were enjoying the beautiful,
sunny April day in the backyard. I’d pulled a few weeds and made
mental notes of where I wanted to plant flowers. I had opened all
of the windows to air the house out. After cleaning the kitchen it
reeked of lemon Mr. Clean. Normally, I loved that smell, but today
it was enough to gag me.

Heading back inside, I climbed the stairs to
use the bathroom and change out of my jeans and fitted maternity
shirt into one of Jaxon’s large, soft cottony t-shirts. Standing in
front of the bathroom mirror, I noticed that my hair was a wreck
and I had dirt on my face.

“Ugh, gross.” Rubbing my hand over my belly,
I spoke to my daughter. “We need a shower, sweet girl. Mommy got
all nasty cleaning the kitchen and back porch.”

Grabbing a soft towel and hanging it up on
the hook outside of the large walk-in shower, I opened the door and
turned the water on. I threw on the faded red USMC on the vanity
and headed to the dresser for a pair of panties and boxers to wear
after the shower.

Returning to the bathroom, I stepped out of
my panties and kicked them over toward where the hamper should be.
Ugh. Why can’t he just put things back where they belong? Just as I
was about to open the shower door I heard Ruger barking in the
backyard.

“Shit,” I huffed and walked over to the large
window near the vanity with my arm covering my breasts to see what
the ruckus was about. Ruger was sitting at the base of one of the
big water oaks barking like a banshee, which meant either Ms.
Rice’s cat was in the tree again or a squirrel got brave and was
sitting there taunting him. “Silly dog.”

Waddling back over to the shower, I pulled
back the heavy frosted glass door and tested the water. Perfect. I
stepped in and turned on the body jets.

“Ahh.” The first blast of water was ice cold
and seriously got my attention. Once the water peaked to perfection
I stepped back into the stream and let the jets massage my
tension-filled back. My poor muscles ached and screamed for relief.
Sadly, it would be a few more weeks before the watermelon of a
stomach I carried around would be gone.

Taking my time, I washed and conditioned my
curls, washed my body, and shaved my underarms. To hell with my
legs, Jax would have to help me with that. No way was I trying to
bend over and shave from ankle to hip. My luck, I would fall right
over and be stuck in here. Jaxon would come home and find my fat,
naked ass freezing in the bottom of the shower.
God, I’m so freaking fat.

Turning off the shower, I reached out and
grabbed my towels, wrapped my hair up then toweled off. As I picked
up the shirt and slipped it over my head, careful not to pull my
towel off, I had this weird feeling dance along my skin. I stopped
and listened, thinking I would hear Jaxon downstairs, but I heard
nothing, not even Ruger’s barking.

“I guess the squirrels wised up and took a
hike,” I said aloud, not sure who I thought would answer me, but I
did get a little tap tap from inside my womb. “Is that right?”

I slipped on my panties and boxers and opened
the bathroom door all the way.

“It’s about time you finished in there,” a
dark menacing voice told me. “Another few minutes and I would’ve
joined you. I could’ve found out how soft and sweet that body of
yours really is since Rem won’t share ya.”

Looking up, I was met with cold, unforgiving
black eyes that I prayed I’d never see again. He was sitting on the
foot of the bed with his muddy boots on my beautiful beige
settee.

Drill.

“Oh my God. Drill, you scared the shit out of
me.” I decided to play it cool and pretend like I took his comment
as harmless flirting. “Jax isn’t here. Why don’t I call him and see
when he’s gonna be home? Maybe you can join us for dinner.”

“I don’t think so, baby girl.” His words were
ominous and the way he said “baby girl
”
sent a chill down my spine. “But don’t you worry your pretty little
head, Jaxon will join us…eventually.”